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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28971960">The Friendly Necromancer</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sengachi/pseuds/Sengachi'>Sengachi</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>But Kind Necromancy, Death Doesn't Have To Be The End When Ghosts Exist, Found Family, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, I Would Jokingly Tag This 'Scarf Kink' But That's A Real Tag Apparently, Necromancy, Pokemon Battles, Pokemon Death, Pokemon Journey, Pokemon Training</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:47:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>60,333</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28971960</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sengachi/pseuds/Sengachi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Banette is a pokemon that exists to give meaning to abandoned and discarded things. Typically they do this by possessing abandoned dolls when they evolve from their first form Shuppet. But when an ill-treated boy dies alone a friendly Shuppet he named Diya takes it upon itself to give his life meaning. Diya possesses and revives his body, becoming a Banette, and sets out to make the boy's dream of becoming a pokemon trainer come true.</p><p>Along the way Diya makes friends, fights some pokemon, finds a deep and abiding love of scarves, blurs the line between living and dead, accidentally becomes a necromancer, and to everyone's surprise even finds the time to accomplish its original goal and catch a pokemon or three.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>61</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>56</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Episode 1: How It Ended</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>An IMPORTANT note before we begin:</p><p>The core theme of this story is in salvaging a future from tragedy, and making what comes afterwards better and brighter. It is, fundamentally, a story about the process of things getting better after the worst happens. It is about hope for the future, love for one another, resilience in the face of adversity, and being happy. In keeping with that, this story will only get brighter, and keep getting brighter, as it goes on.</p><p>But that said, it <i>starts with a tragedy.</i> This story begins with a child's death. If that's not something you want to read, if that's too tragic for you, you can skip to Chapter 3. I've written a less-emotional summary of Chapters 1 &amp; 2 there which should let you read the rest of the story without having to read a description of a child's death, if you want.</p><p>This story is meant to be a happy one about salvaging a future from tragedy. If reading the tragedy part of that narrative doesn't help you be happy, if you'd rather skip to the "comfort" part of "hurt/comfort", you can do so. Take care of yourself, and -I hope- enjoy the story.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Shuppet is a spherical Pokémon that appears to be covered by a gray cloth. Black rings surround its multicolored eyes, which have light-blue sclerae, dark-blue irises, and yellow pupils. Occasionally, it will display a large, pink tongue. Extending from the top of its head is a long, pointed horn. The horn collects the negative emotions of people, on which this Pokémon feeds. The emotions it feeds on include anger, jealousy, and envy, so some people are grateful for its presence. A nocturnal Pokémon, it will appear in swarms beneath the eaves of houses with negative people. It is most commonly found in cities and other urban settings.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>-----</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was snowing, and the boy was cold. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shivered, and it was a violent thing that wracked his body from head to toe. His head smacked the almost-warm wall of the house behind him and for a moment he saw stars.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy brought his hands up to his mouth, exhaling what warmth he could onto them. If there was any warmth in his breath anymore. He couldn’t feel it if there was. He put his hands back under his armpits and there wasn’t any warmth there either. Were his hands that numb or was his blood that cold?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another shudder seized him and he closed his eyes while he waited for it to pass. It took him so much energy to open his eyes again when it passed, but when he finally managed it he was glad he had. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Shuppets were back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were five of the shy spirits this time, more than he’d ever seen at once before. They were small flickering balls of gray haze the size of his head , barely visible in the porch light of his home. The only clearly visible parts of them were their eyes. Such pretty eyes. Yellow pupils in the middle, then a dark blue iris, then light blue sclera. Five pairs of eyes regarded him from above, hiding under the eaves of the porch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“H-h-h-hhhh,” the shivers went deep into his chest, making it hard to speak. He forced it out anyway, “Hhhhh-hey there, lllll-ll-little uh-ones. Hh-hhhhow are you?”</span>
</p><p><span>One of the Shuppets, bigger than the others and almost the size of his chest, drifted hesitantly closer. It froze at a sudden </span><b><em>thud</em></b> <span>from inside the house, followed by raised voices.</span></p><p>
  <span>“Hhhhh-he-he-hhhh-he,” the boy chuckled. “Ddd-don’t worry. They’re jjjj-” he tried to wrap his clumsy mouth around the word ‘just’ and found he couldn’t, “p-p-pissed at me. I ffff-fucked up. K-k-k-k-kinda bad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The biggest Shuppet, the one he’d known longest, hesitated. It didn’t come closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! Nnnn-no! D-d-don’t worry, D-d-d-d,” he struggled on the name he’d given it before managing to spit it out, “Diya.” He’d heard it meant ‘oil lamp’, somewhere far away. The name fit, he thought. This Shuppet’s eyes had always glowed more than the others, flickering with some inner light. Just like how he imagined an oil lamp would look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy shuddered again, muscles going so tight it hurt before all going loose at once. He was so tired. Who knew shivering could be so exhausting?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shhuu?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy opened his eyes again - when had he closed them? - and looked back up. Diya was floating closer to him now, a hint of a wispy pink tongue showing as it opened its mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shhuu?” it whispered again, quiet and inquiring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What had he been saying? It was … it was … another thump sounded from inside his home. Oh. Right. Right. “You d-d-d-don’t have t-t-t-ttttto wo-worry,” the shivering was suddenly back and he struggled to speak, “Ddddd-diya. Weeeee-we’re fine out here. I’m just gonna- gonna stay out hhhhhh-here. ‘ntil ttthhhhh-th-th-they’re not so pissed. Mmmm’kay? ‘s’fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya drifted closer, until the floating gray spirit was almost touching his head. “Shu?” it asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy nodded convulsively. “Pl-” his voice cracked and it had nothing to do with cold. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Please.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The Shuppet closed its eyes and a stubby wisp of gray horn began to appear on its head. If the boy concentrated - and it was so hard to concentrate, why was it so hard to concentrate? - he could see wisps of shadow flowing out of his head into the steadily solidifying horn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instantly the boy felt his body relax. He was still shivering, but a mountain of tension flowed out of him. The weight of the screaming and yelling, the fear for what was waiting for him, the resentment that it was always like this -that it </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> had to be like this- left him. Sucked up into that lovely little pokemon’s horn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shhhuuuuuuuup,” it murmured. It sounded almost like a slurping noise, and the boy couldn’t help but laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And wasn’t that a wonder. A real genuine laugh. “Ha, ha-ha, hhh-hahahaha.” The shivering boy smiled up at Diya. This was why he loved the Shuppets. For a little while they could make the world feel less awful. They couldn’t really </span>
  <em>
    <span>make</span>
  </em>
  <span> him be happy, his teachers said they only fed on bad emotions rather than giving good feelings. But sometimes the world seeming a little less awful was all he needed to be happy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of his teachers had taken him aside once, asked him about the Shuppets that always hung around under the eaves of his family’s porch after the sun went down. Asked him if they were a problem. Hah. He’d never said no so fast to anything in his life. The shy little spirits were the best thing in his life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pe”, Diya sighed as it finished its meal. Its horn was so full it almost looked solid, shiny and reflective rather than wispy and transparent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tthhhh-th-thanks, D-diya,” the boy murmured. “I …” he blinked slowly, shook his head, “I needed that.” His body gave one more convulsive teeth-chattering shudder before relaxing again, too tired to keep up the effort. This time when he stopped shivering, it didn’t start back up again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya’s eyes twisted. The little spirit almost looked worried. “Shuppet?” it murmured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmm. Just … j’s tired. Had a long … long day.” A few long days. He hadn’t slept at all the night before. Not much the night before that either. Hard to, with all the screaming. Hard to even after the screaming stopped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe he’d get to sleep tonight though. He was so tired.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Shuppet darted about his head, like it was worried about something. “Sshhhuuu!” it cried. “Sshuu!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmmm? Wh’ ‘s it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It darted in closer than it ever had before, licking his forehead with an insubstantial pink tongue. It felt like being licked by mist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy opened his eyes in surprise, delight bubbling up from somewhere deep under the tiredness. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes. “Oh,” he whispered quietly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shhhuuuu!” it cried again. From behind it he heard similar murmured cries from the other four smaller Shuppets, still tucked away in their hiding spots under the porch’s eaves. Diya darted in to lick him again, catching his ear, his chin, his lips, his nose, even brushing its insubstantial tongue over his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hehehehehe,” the boy giggled. “Ssst-,” he yawned, “ssstop it.” It tickled when Diya’s unreal mist caught him on his lips or his eyes. He looked up, his eyes just barely managing to focus on the Shuppet’s. They were so pretty. Wide yellow pupils, a barely-there dark blue iris, and a light blue sclera. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shu! Shu, shu, shu, shu, shu!!!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey? Diya? Did I ever tell you? ‘m gonna be a pokemon trainer one day.”</span>
  <span></span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shuuuu!” The frantic spirit rushed at his head, tickling him as its wispy body parted around his face. Even the seemingly solid horn parted around him like so much mist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘m gonna leave here. G’nna … g’nna walk on out. Get as far away as I can.” The boy’s eyes watered. “Not g’nna miss anything here. ‘cept you. I-” the boy sniffled, eyes drifting shut, “I’d really miss you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sshhuuu,” the Shuppet whispered. It tried to move the boy again by flying at his head, but the effort was half-hearted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy’s eyes weren’t opening anymore, but he tried to lift his head to look at Diya anyway. “Hey. Would you … would you …” his mind drifted. What was he saying again?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya licked his cheek softly. “Shuppet?” it murmured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy stirred. Oh. Right. He’d been about to ask a question. A really important one. “Would- would you come with me? When I leave here?” He didn’t know if he’d be able to do it alone. The boy sniffled. “Pl-please?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shu.” Diya licked the boy, right on the bridge up his nose and up to his forehead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Good. Tha- tha’s good.” Tears rolled down his cheeks. But good tears. With Diya around they couldn’t possibly be any other kind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy was quiet for a while after that, as Diya licked his cheeks and pressed its wispy body up against his head. His chest rose a little less with each breath. The tear trails on his face and neck slowly iced over. If there was any noise still coming from inside the house, he couldn’t hear it. And if there was any worry inside of him, Diya and her horn made sure it never touched his heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One last time, the boy spoke. It was barely a whisper. “Diya? Are you there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shu.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. That’s … good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy smiled.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Episode 2: How It Began</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Resentment at being cast off made Banette spring into being.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This Pokémon developed from an abandoned doll that amassed a grudge. It is seen in dark alleys.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>-----</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya waited, but the boy was still.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sh-shu?” The boy didn’t move. Of course he didn’t. Diya could feel the empty space he’d once inhabited. A cooling hollow where a living spirit had been. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Shuppet flickered, the gray haze of its body fluttering this way and that as if in a strong breeze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shu?” The boy still didn’t move. It- it wasn’t right. He had so much hope. Diya could feel it in him, a quiet glow that didn’t nourish it the way his griefs did, but warmed the spirit anyway. And it was still there! Still inside of him! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But fading. Every second that ember cooled and the hope’s glow faded a bit more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya’s eyes flashed, the Shuppet’s multicolored eyes blazing pink for a moment as it stared into the empty hollow of the boy’s departed spirit. Behind the spirit its fellow Shuppets murmured. None approached but even so Diya could feel their confusion. They didn’t understand. Didn’t get it. They fed off the ambient grievances of the broken home, hadn’t spent months personally taking in this child’s suffering, learning his aches and pains and seeing his hope. They didn’t get it like Diya did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diya seethed, its gray haze twisting in on itself. Silence came from the house. No voices raised or fists slamming into walls. But the spirit could feel the boiling resentments inside, eager to seize on any excuse to end a fragile ceasefire. An ugly cocktail of vicious anticipation to resume the violence, anxious worry about the same, and resigned frustration at it all. But nowhere in that mixture was worry for their child. For the boy who’d shut himself out in the cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ssssshhhhhhh,” angry noise came out of the Shuppet’s mouth. None of this was right. Each moment the leftover hope in the boy cooled that much more and </span>
  <em>
    <span>no one cared</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It was like the boy was just … trash. Something discarded. Something worthless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya’s eyes flashed pink again, casting harsh shadows over the porch and the empty boy who lay on it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No. No! That was wrong. It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The boy hadn’t been worthless. He hadn’t! He mattered to someone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d mattered to Diya.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the spirit was not about to let those last embers of hope in his chest die.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Shuppet lowered its horn to the boy’s chest, just over his heart. “Sshhuuuuuuu,” it whistled, pouring the energy it had taken from the boy’s grief into him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The heart twitched, but nothing more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ssshhhuuuuuuuuuuuuuupppppppppp,” the noise came out like a teapot whistling and the fabric of its spirit burned with the effort. But the heart did not warm. Did not beat again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had to be enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The spirit redoubled its efforts, screaming as it took pain and rage and injustice from its horn and tried to weave them into one more heartbeat. “ppppppppbbbbbbbbbbaaaaaAAAAAAAAA!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There wasn’t enough. Even with its horn filled by its recent meal, it didn’t have enough. There was only so much excess power it had to spare in its horn. So it didn’t spare anything. It wove itself into the boy. The gray haze of the spirit’s very self came apart, stuffed into a heart that. would. </span>
  <em>
    <span>beat.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bbbbbbaaaaaaaaaaaa!” It screamed as it tore itself apart for fuel. For the chance to make this right. To show that the boy wasn’t worthless. That he mattered. That even someone abandoned, unloved, unwanted by the people closest to him still mattered to someone. Mattered to it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya’s eyes blazed pink, brighter than the porch light. And it screamed.</span>
  <span></span><br/>
<span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“BBBBBAAAAANETTE!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a flash of pink light. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And a heartbeat. One. And then another. And another.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A cold brain stirred back to life, jittering currents spreading through still neurons as a wispy spirit stirred them to life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nostrils flared and breath filled empty lungs, fueling cold blood forced to flow by a heartbeat that would not stop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And two eyes opened. Black pupils, brown irises, and faintly glowing pink sclera. It took them time to focus. Cold neurons which had once been a boy, which still carried his hope, were slow to resume their old functions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t right to call this child the boy anymore. That wasn’t what the body housed. That wasn’t what slowly pulled itself upright, which turned stuttering neurons and too-cold muscles into movement. But the boy was what fueled the thing at the heart of it. Hope. The need for something better and the strength to reach for it even when it hurt to keep hoping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Banette wobbled on unsteady feet which were still too cold to flex the way they ought to. It turned towards the door of the quiet house, which still brimmed with resentment and barely buried conflict. And a part of it was angry. So, so angry. It would smash down the door and tear apart the hateful people it found within.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had fed on the boy’s griefs for many months. It had eaten his fear, his resentment, his despair. It had never found within him hatred. The boy hadn’t wanted to destroy his parents. To lay waste to them and make them suffer for what they’d done to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d just wanted to be free.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And every moment the Banette lingered here delayed that. So it turned, facing out into the gently falling snow which had killed the boy not so long ago. But it would take more than that to kill it now. A Banette did not need warmth to keep its body moving, or to keep a heart beating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya gave one last look to Shuppets hovering above its head. It reached a hand up to them and they nuzzled it. The Banette huffed a delighted laugh through its nose. That tickled. With a gentle cupped hand it brought each Shuppet down from the eaves in turn, holding its forehead to them for a moment. They had been together ever since the miasma around this house had birthed them, and Diya would be sorry to leave them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it could not stay here. It would leave, and that was a good thing. So it was with a smile playing over its lips that the Banette let the last Shuppet go. It took the hand which had been holding them and folded it over its beating heart. It wished them all the best.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For it though, the best was out there beyond the falling snow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because the boy had wanted to be a pokemon trainer. And Diya was going to make that happen.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Episode 3: Silent Night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Less-tragic summary of Chapters 1&amp;2: A boy with a bad home life went out into the cold to avoid his parents arguing. The cold got to him without him realizing it, and he died. Before dying he asked Diya, a Shuppet he had named and fed his grief to, to accompany him on a journey to become a pokemon trainer. Diya, struck with grief and a sense of injustice, attempted to restart the boy's heart. It succeeded, but only by evolving into a Banette and possessing the boy the way a Banette would a doll.</p><p>It briefly considered taking vengeance on the boy's parents, but the boy had only ever wanted to be free, not to take revenge on them. So instead Diya said goodbye to its fellow Shuppets and set out into the world to fulfill the boy's wish to become a pokemon trainer in his stead.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>A cursed energy permeated the stuffing of a discarded and forgotten plush doll, giving it new life as Banette. The Pokémon's energy would escape if it were to ever open its mouth.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>-----</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya shuffled through the snowy streets, staring with soft wonder at all that it passed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That … that was a streetlamp. It had known that before as a Shuppet, through the lens of the grievances it pulled from people’s minds. It knew - </span>
  <em>
    <span>A too-dark street and a crack in the pavement she always stumbled over. “When are they going to fix that damn light?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> - </span>
  <em>
    <span>A glare in the corner of their eye, shining through their bedroom window. Turning over in bed and grumbling, “I need to put up a piece of paper or something, to block that.” - A weary maintenance worker, working overtime to replace cheap bulbs he’d darn well told the city council would need constant replacing.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>But this …</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya hadn’t known street lamps were beautiful. It had never known how gorgeous a lamp’s halo could be, standing out against the falling snow. How calming it could be to watch the snow slowly drift into its light. And how useful! Walking was already a little difficult with cold feet and the rising snow, but Diya could imagine -knew, from the boy’s experiences- how much worse it could be in the dark. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But here people had come together, pooled money and resources and fuel and time to light their streets together! They’d harnessed electricity, so the boy’s teachers had taught him, to make light! They learned and they shared and they taught so they could make the world better together! Wasn’t that wonderful?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lukewarm neurons flickered with a memory, jogged by the joy washing through the body Diya inhabited. It was a thing the boy had done in school a few times, something he had always loved. It was- </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dancing. Yes! The boy had always loved to dance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Illuminated by the streetlamps Diya took one hesitant step, and then another, and another. A step, and a turn, and a twirl, and- woop! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snow compacted and slid beneath Diya’s sneaker and its footing vanished out from under it. The Banette hit the snowy asphalt with a </span>
  <b>
    <em>whump</em>
  </b>
  <span>, banging a leg and an elbow and skinning the side of its hand. It snorted a shocked breath out its nose, and then, once it found its bearings, smiled. Dancing was </span>
  <em>
    <span>fun!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya pulled itself to its feet -a little warier of slipping now- and tried again. A step and a step and a turn and a -careful!- twirl and a step and a step and a -careful!- slide. Diya danced its way down the street in the gentle silence of a snowy night, bursting with all the joy the boy felt when he danced.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Happiness bubbled up through its chest, rising and rising until it overflowed and came out the Banette’s mouth as a giddy, “Hah!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And with that “Hah!” came a puff of dark gray spirit-stuff escaping from the boy’s body. A wave of dizziness washed through the Banette and it fell again, bashing its knees on the street.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmp!” Diya exclaimed, rolling onto its side and clasping both hands over its mouth. Oh no! It had almost forgotten to keep its mouth shut! Giddy joy had run roughshod over its instincts and Diya had almost come pouring out of the boy’s body! Quick! It needed to find a zipper, something to sew its mouth shut so-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It hit Diya rather suddenly -riding a wave of shock and disgust from the boy’s brain- that human mouths could not </span>
  <em>
    <span>be</span>
  </em>
  <span> sewed shut with a zipper. Or at least, it would probably end very badly and humans Diya met would have very strong opinions about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya swallowed nervously. It, uhh, it guessed it was just going to have to keep its mouth shut very tightly. Diya got back up and, lips pressed together as tight as it could, started hesitantly dancing again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This wasn’t going to work. Nervousness filled the body and the joy of dancing was out of its reach. It needed something to cover its mouth. Maybe …</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe a scarf? Fabric would be too porous to </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> work, but Diya could wind it very tight around its mouth a few times and that would at least be enough to stop any accidental slip-ups from being quite so scarily debilitating. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Humans would also probably be less freaked out by a child wearing a scarf in winter than they’d be seeing a child with a zipper sewn into its mouth. That was important.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya nodded to itself. Yes! This was a good plan. Now it just had to find a scarf ... </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It looked down at itself. For that matter, better winter clothes in general would be good too. Diya didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>need</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be warm to keep the body moving, but stiff muscles and tight tendons made for poor walking. Certainly for poor dancing. And the boy was only dressed in a long sleeve pullover shirt, cargo pants, and sneakers with damp socks. Definitely not winter wear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A wave of melancholy washed over Diya. No. No it hadn’t been winter wear at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Banette swallowed and pushed back the promise of tears. It steadied itself by taking a deep breath in through its nose and kept walking. It was doing the best it could for the boy. It was going to fulfill the boy’s dream for him. It was going to go out into the world and travel, and become a pokemon trainer, and. be. happy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But first it really did need winter clothes. A Banette might live through its body actually freezing solid, but the process of waiting for the next thaw would not be pleasant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya thought for a bit. Where could it get clothes, without going back to the boy’s house? Oh! Of course, it knew where to get clothes. It picked up the pace and turned at the next intersection. The communal laundromat! Someone always forgot their clothes in there overnight. The boy had picked up -stolen, was it stealing if you needed it?- some clothes there before, when his old clothes were getting ratty and asking his parents for new ones was a bad idea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Diya walked it pushed itself to marvel at the road and the sidewalk -more collaborative projects! how easy to walk on!- and mused on whether taking clothes would be stealing. The boy had thought so when he’d done it. But he had also thought stealing was bad … </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> that what he was doing wasn’t bad. Which didn’t fit. If stealing was bad and what he had done wasn’t bad, it couldn’t be stealing, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unless maybe there was good stealing and bad stealing? Or maybe the boy had been wrong? But if so, which part was he wrong about? Diya tried to think about the boy’s lessons in school, if any of them had mentioned this. And … yes, one of his teachers had said something about this once. A question about if it was wrong to steal to feed one’s family, or wrong to not steal and let them starve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya huffed through its nose. But the answer it remembered was no help at all! The teacher had said the answer their society found was to make the question not an issue, that just like people worked together to make streetlamps and streets they’d worked together to make sure everyone had enough to eat. Something about how the whole point of being neighbors was making sure no one had to ask that question in the first place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But clearly it </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> still a problem, because the boy had needed to steal clothes before! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite its frustration though, Diya couldn’t help but grin. It grinned so wide it struggled to keep the corners of its mouth from leaking spirit-stuff. Because it didn’t know the answer to this, if taking clothes it needed from the laundromat was stealing and if it was bad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t know!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>As much as was in the boy’s brain, knowledge of electricity and civics and pokemon and grocery store prices and dancing, there were things </span>
  <em>
    <span>he hadn’t known</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Things Diya could </span>
  <em>
    <span>learn.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Things it could be </span>
  <em>
    <span>taught</span>
  </em>
  <span> by other people, things it could find out for itself! And oh, how wonderful was that!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya slowed its pace just enough to twirl and dance a few steps across the growing snow, for the sheer joy of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All that wonder of knowing something new it was experiencing tonight? The beauty of seeing something with new eyes? It could experience that </span>
  <em>
    <span>forever!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Every single day that it chose to seek out something new! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>More laughs threatened to bubble out and Diya had to clasp its hands over its mouth to smother them into breathless giggles. Oops. It really needed that scarf soon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh! There was the laundromat! Diya rushed the last block, only slipping and falling once -that wasn’t so bad!- in its haste. It hoped some actually had forgotten their laundry overnight. It didn’t know what it was going to do otherwise. Diya hurried up to the laundromat’s sliding glass doors and waited for them to open. They didn’t. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh right, closed for the night. How did the boy get inside again? Diya only had to think for a moment before the answer came to it. The Banette placed its hands on the glass and pushed up, trying to jimmy the door open. There was a little locking nub on the ground and if it could just get the door off that it would-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A reflection in the glass caught Diya’s attention. It blinked, and two dimly glowing pink eyes blinked back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh. Diya let go of the door and took a half-step back. Reflected in the glass was the boy’s face. Its face. It tilted its head one way, and then the other. It had never seen the boy’s face with human eyes before. It … well it supposed it also remembered the boy seeing himself in mirrors. But it wasn’t quite the same.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had brown skin that was probably darker than it looked in the pink-lit reflection. Thick eyebrows. Diya raised them, let them fall, wiggled them, furrowed them. Thick </span>
  <em>
    <span>expressive</span>
  </em>
  <span> eyebrows. It wasn’t sure if it liked the idea of that, of the whole world being able to see its thoughts on its face so easily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Banette touched its face, feeling out the rest of its features as it looked at them. A wide flat nose. A soft jaw and a round face. Short wiry black hair, coarse enough to shed water like a Ducklett’s feathers. And wide lips, which Diya tightened reflexively while examining them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was … a face. One Diya wasn’t quite sure what to do with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It hoped it was a face other people could like. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Banette covered its mouth with a hand, like it was hoping to do with a scarf, and tried a smile. Its cheeks swelled up above its hand and the corners of its eyes crinkled warmly. Ahhh. That was a good smile. One the boy hadn’t seen often in the mirror. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya looked forward to sharing it.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Crash!</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>A sudden noise from down the street startled Diya. It whirled around, one hand over its pounding heart and the other thrust out in front of it, holding an orb of pulsing black and purple energy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Long seconds passed, but the noise didn’t repeat. There was only the muffled silence of a snowy street. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe somebody had dropped something in the kitchen late at night. Or maybe a Zigzagoon had knocked over a trash can. But either way, Diya no longer felt like standing around in front of the closed laundromat peering at its reflection.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya extinguished the shadow ball in its hand and turned back to the sliding glass doors. It took a deep breath through its nose -and oh what a feeling to fill its lungs with cold night air- and squared its shoulders. No more messing with locked doors, it was going to do this the ghost way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Banette took another deep breath, walked straight towards the glass door, and stepped </span>
  <em>
    <span>up</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Solidity vanished and the world’s shadows caught fire. What had a moment ago been solid walls were replaced by dark gauzy veils. Tattered shadows hung over the ground and flew up like clouds of dust wherever Diya stepped. Hints of purple fire limned the spaces the streetlamps didn’t quite light in the real world, and towering violet blazes crowned each streetlamp where the shadow it cast up into the sky was deepest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only real thing in an insubstantial world, Diya stepped through the insubstantial gauze of the glass doors as if they weren’t even there. Only once it was on the other side did it let go of the phantom world.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Fwoomp.</em>
  </b>
  <span> Displaced air rushed out of its way as Diya stepped back down into the real world. It blinked rapidly. That had been … different, from when it had been a Shuppet. When it had stepped into the phantom world as a Shuppet it had become part of that world. Its substance had been the same gauzy black veils and purple fires as everything else. This time it had been in the phantom world as a real physical body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Was that because it was a Banette now? Was this something all Banettes experienced once they had a physical body to inhabit? Or was it something strange and new that had come about when Diya possessed a human rather than a doll? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t-</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diya giggled its train of thought apart before the mental refrain could be completed. One melodramatic outburst about the wonders of ignorance and novelty was quite enough. Though as melodramatic as it might be to repeatedly dance about in excitement over not knowing things, it really was a fascinating experience. The Shuppet had lived its life as largely a bundle of instincts and automatic reactions to stimuli. It had learned the boy was safe to approach and that he often came outside in the evenings, but little else. And the boy had lived most of his life just trying to trudge through to the next day, focusing on learning things only when he was sat down in front of a teacher and taught. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But now there was a whole new life for Diya to explore. The boy and Shuppet both had grown up in Ledos Village, and the boy had never left for anything more than school trips to museums and pokemon preservation parks. What was over the horizon? Who might Diya meet in the next town over? How would its powers grow? What was being a pokemon trainer actually like? It didn’t know. So it was going to have to find out for itself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that journey of discovery was going to start right here, with a very important question: What, if anything, had people forgotten in the laundromat tonight? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The answer? Quite a bit actually. Three different people had left laundry behind, and Diya came up with quite a haul. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>First and most importantly, someone </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> left a scarf behind. A wonderful scarf with a light blue and pale red plaid pattern that Diya only saw for a second before it was wrapped around its mouth as tightly as possible. The scarf was long enough to go around its face five times, and once it was done Diya could hardly even move its jaw. It was perfect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then over that went another white scarf decorated with Piplups, because Diya also needed something to keep its nose and neck warm. There wasn’t a good proper coat in the laundry, so Diya made do and took two flannel shirts and a light blue fleece sweater that were probably sized for a shorter adult. It was only moderately drowning in loose fabric, but with enough layers that might just be a good thing and trap some still air for insulation. The result was surprisingly toasty, and Diya found itself quickly sweltering in the leftover heat from the laundromat’s activities during the day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Next Diya pulled on some long underwear and replaced its damp socks with three pairs of longer, warmer, and drier socks. It still only had sneakers for footwear, but hopefully the layered sock would help with that. And outermost socks had little Piplup designs to match the Piplup scarf, which Diya thought was great. It also found a pair of waterproof dark gray suspender pants and a lovely set of grey knit gloves that were actually in its size.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And lastly, it found a white toque with a big ball of weighty white fluff on the top. This was very  important because the fluffy white ball flopped around and tugged at Diya’s head with its weight whenever it moved, in a way that was very noticeable and very fun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the end of Diya’s plundering, the Banette was significantly less mobile, much warmer, and much more fashionable. It felt bad about taking so many nice clothes from people though. If it loved the clothes it had found, their owners probably loved them just as much or more. Maybe it should leave an apology note? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a whiteboard on one wall that the city’s maintenance crew used to leave messages for the people who used the laundromat. A request for people to not use a particular type of detergent, a day the laundromat would be closed for plumbing maintenance. Diya hunted for the marker to write its own message and eventually found it rolled under a washing machine.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dear People Who Left Your Clothes Here Overnight,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sorry for-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya paused. Okay now it was important. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Was</span>
  </em>
  <span> it stealing their clothes if it needed their clothes to not freeze solid tonight more than they needed the clothes tomorrow morning? It thought for a bit, before the sweltering heat of too many layers in the laundromat started to make it sweat. Maybe it should just change its word choice.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sorry for taking some of your clothes. I was very cold and needed them.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Then it added a few hearts and a sad sorry-looking face because it didn’t know what else to write. It still wasn’t sure if stealing clothes it needed was actually bad, but it did know it felt bad about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It gave the clothes one last look over to make sure it wasn’t forgetting anything it needed -it took some extra pairs of socks in case its current ones got wet- and left. Another quick step through the hazy phantom world of burning shadows and Diya reappeared outside the laundromat with a </span>
  <b>
    <em>fwoomp</em>
  </b>
  <span> of displaced air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now properly attired and at less risk of freezing solid, Diya could begin its journey as a pokemon trainer. Or at least, it could begin its journey to the next town over, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>there</span>
  </em>
  <span> it could begin its journey as a pokemon trainer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unaccompanied teens starting pokemon journeys may be a common and rarely questioned sight, but Ledos Village was a small place with only a few thousand people. If Diya walked into the local pokemon center tomorrow morning and asked for a starter pokedex and a few pokeballs, questions would be asked. Questions like “Your parents / teachers didn’t tell me you were leaving on a pokemon journey,” that weren’t actually questions and were really a swift end to any dreams of freedom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A day’s walk east in Canopy Town though, and Diya would be just another pokemon journeyer visiting Kenomao Island for its varied wildlife, well-maintained pokemon preserves, and helpful gyms. A whole wide new world Diya could disappear into as a pokemon trainer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Smiling widely enough that the lift of its cheeks and the crinkling of its eyes could be seen even over its scarves, Diya set off to the east. It was going to be a long walk to Canopy Town, so it might as well get started now. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Not everyone can match a Pokemon's appearance to its name just by reading it. I'm dating myself here but I know I sure can't with anything later than gen 2. </p><p>So to make this story easier and hopefully more vivid for everyone I'm including pictures and types of any important Pokemon mentioned in a chapter's end notes. Please tell me if the pictures are too taxing for anyone's devices or data, if so I'll try to work out something different. Tell me if they're especially helpful though too! It'll be a balance between general utility and cost.</p><p>Piplup (Water):<br/><br/>Shuppet (Ghost):<br/><br/>Banette (Ghost):<br/></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Map 1: Ledos Village</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Episode 4: A Friend!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Blipbug is an insectoid Pokémon. It has five body segments and is covered in sensitive setae that it uses to collect information about its environment. The dorsal half of its ovular head is a dark blue, and the ventral half is beige. Blipbug's large, reflective eyes resemble glasses. It has a small mouth and eyebrow-like markings that give it a perpetually surprised expression.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A constant collector of information, Blipbug are very smart, but very weak. They are often found in gardens.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>-----</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The walk to Canopy Town was not an easy one in the winter, because there wasn’t an actual road connecting the two towns. Goods that Ledos Village needed and produced were sent along the same e-storage cables that pokemon got transferred along, and traffic wasn’t exactly bustling to and from the small village of a couple thousand. So there simply wasn’t a need for a paved and plowed road.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a dirt path connecting the two towns where trees had been uprooted to bury the e-storage cable between the two towns and most of the time that was fine. People sometimes used it to bike from one town to the other over the weekend to visit family or see the sights in Canopy Town, and that was good enough. Sure that wasn’t possible during the rare heavy snows and that wasn’t ideal, but that was life living in a small village. Sometimes the seasons dictated travel and that was that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So if Diya was going to walk to Canopy Town tonight, it would be a long hard walk along a snowy dirt path through the dark forest. With the moon obscured by the clouds at that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t actually so bad though. The snow wasn’t more than a couple centimeters deep yet, especially over the ground the buried e-storage cable kept warm. And visibility wasn’t much of a problem either because Diya had found, to its delight, that its eyes </span>
  <em>
    <span>glowed in the dark!</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Soft pink light shone out from its eyes like faint spectral spotlights, and after its eyes had adjusted to the darkness the pink light was more than enough to see by. And sometimes a faint purple haze would flicker in the shadows that light cast, illuminating the darkness further. That was great for avoiding roots which might otherwise trip it, because the shadowed arch of the root would glow purple.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And now that Diya was warm and cozy under its layers of clothes and it could feel the comfortable stretch and exertion of the boy’s muscles...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya tilted its head back and breathed in deep. Chilly night air flowed into its lungs and felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span>, carrying the heat of walking with it when Diya breathed back out. It felt so invigorating, to have a body and be </span>
  <em>
    <span>using</span>
  </em>
  <span> it. To be outside where the silence could seep in until the only sounds were its breath and its heartbeat and the soft whisper of fresh snow under its shoes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya breathed in again, savoring the clean crisp smell of the snowy air. It looked behind itself and at the limits of its eyes light could see its footsteps vanishing behind it, filled in by the fresh falling snow It smiled softly under its scarves. The boy would have liked this, it thought, to begin his journey on such a night. With no tracks behind him and no goal before him but the wide open world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy wasn’t truly still alive, to feel the same appreciation and wonder Diya did. His heart beat and his neurons fired, but the brain had been without oxygen too long to go back to being him. Something was missing and without Diya’s spirit to compel it into motion the machinery of the mind wouldn’t be running. If Diya were to use flowery language, it would say his soul had left and wasn’t coming back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But even so. There was enough, Diya thought, to make all this worthwhile. There was enough of the boy’s brain left to carry his preferences, his experiences, his hope. So long as Diya was using his brain to move his body and interpret the world around itself, Diya saw the world through </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> eyes. It loved dancing because he loved dancing. The thought of becoming a pokemon trainer thrilled it, this journey into the unknown was exciting, because Diya saw the world’s promise and freedom through his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was also more than just that though. Diya’s perspective was wider than the boy’s alone would have been. The boy had always imagined taking his pokemon journey alone, challenging gyms alone, standing atop the summit of victory alone. He had imagined something like friends, peers who congratulated him on his badges, peers he competed with and against. But his fantasies had never included </span>
  <em>
    <span>companionship</span>
  </em>
  <span>, a peer or a mentor so loved he’d turn aside from his own journey to be with them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The future Diya imagined did. When a Banette evolved it always left behind the Shuppet siblings it had grown up with. That was the way of things. Shuppets needed to stay around the people whose negative emotions overflowed and fed them, and Banettes were fueled by the driving urge to give their discarded bodies meaning. A Banette’s beginning always involved goodbyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> loved. It had shrieked with delight playing catch the will-o-wisp and snag the shadow with its siblings. It had hovered close and hummed soothing melodies when one of them ate a feeling too vile or tragic for even a Shuppet to digest it easily. And it wanted that again. It would strive for that again, if it could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was what Diya hoped for, as it walked through the deepening snow, eyes fixed forward on the trail ahead. It wanted not just to have a journey and live a life that would fulfill the boy’s dreams that lived on inside its head, but to live out something </span>
  <em>
    <span>better</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Something filled with more joy and love than the boy had ever even imagined.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Banette smiled until its cheeks hurt and skipped a few steps, bobbing in a pseudo-dance as best it could in the snow that was now deeper than its ankles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yee. That was a dream worth living for. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The snowfall started to break up during the witching hour, a couple hours past midnight if Diya was correctly reading the stars that peaked through the fragmenting clouds overhead. Numbness was starting to sink into its legs from the repetition of dragging its legs up above the snow that was now shin deep and it pulled in the oxygen from each breath as deep as it could before letting it out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy had been fit, school on the outskirts of Kenomao Island involved enough time learning survival skills to see to that. But a late night hike through the snow would wear on anyone and only Diya’s light blue and pale red plaid scarf tying its jaw shut kept it from yawning its soul right out of its body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It blinked blearily as it walked. It had never truly slept as a Shuppet, only ever drowsing through the height of noon at most. It wasn’t sure if it could sleep now, but it looked forward to finding out if it could on a nice soft bed once it got to Canopy Town. Some of the boy’s fondest memories involved curling up under a luxuriously fuzzy blanket a distant relative had gifted him. It didn’t have any money on it though so it would probably have to use the phantom world to slip into an unoccupied hotel room, which … may or may not be stealing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, once Diya got some pokeballs and caught a few pokemon, it could sell some of them and then it’d have the money to actually pay for a bed at night. Or maybe it would buy some camping gear and spend its nights under the trees. Slipping into a hotel room without paying would only be a temporary measure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya’s thoughts were so occupied with fantasies of decadently piled pillows and thick duvets that it almost missed it when it passed someone else in the forest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya paused midstep -wincing when that made the ache in its legs suddenly more noticeable- and turned around. There, off in the distance to the right of the path, was a light in the forest. Diya squinted. That was definitely a person walking off the beaten path, carrying an electric lantern. If Diya focused it even thought it could hear them muttering something to themself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Banette felt a sudden pang in its chest as it remembered playing catch the will-o-wisp with its siblings. Playing hide and seek with intangible ghosts in a city at night was all but impossible, so they’d made it more fair for the seekers by having the hider -the wisp- light themself up with faerie fire. And seeing the light of this person’s lantern peeking through the trees in the distance … Diya found itself taking a step off the path towards the light, heart heavy in its chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, Diya thought as it started walking towards the light, it might as well see who was out there. Diya was kind of curious after all. Why in the world would someone else be all the way out here, halfway between a small town and an even smaller village, in a snowy forest at the middle of night?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Diya got closer, it caught better glimpses of the person through the trees. They were either a short teen or a very short adult. Diya looked closer and thought it caught a glimpse of red and white in the hand not holding the lantern. A pokeball, in all likelihood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were probably a teen then. Kenomao Island was known for being a good place for youths starting pokemon journeys. The island’s economy revolved around it. So a short pokeball wielding person out doing something possibly foolish in the middle of the night was probably a teen. A teen out doing the same thing Diya was, starting their pokemon journey!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya picked up its pace as best it could. Moving through the forest was a bit more difficult than on the trail. Near the base of the trees the snow was shallower than on the path but everywhere else it was deeper, and even with the pink illumination of Diya’s glowing eyes roots and rocks could hide under the snow. Diya had to step carefully and mind its footing as it moved closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh a fellow pokemon trainer, out it in the woods! Diya couldn’t wait to meet them!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The trainer stood out from the rest of the forest in their circle of light, and Diya got a few good looks at them through the trees as it approached. They were maybe a meter and a half tall, and swaddled in what looked like a very cozy overlarge green down jacket. The rest of their outfit, mittens, snow pants, toque, and scarf, were all a lovely light green. And they were definitely a trainer because there was a bug pokemon draped over their back and peeking over their shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a … Diya struggled through hazy memories of lessons the boy had been distracted during … a Blipbug! The huge eyed bug was similarly cozy looking, wrapped in a gray and yellow scarf the same coloration as it. As its trainer walked it peered around, over, and behind their head, moving its own head around slowly to look every which way into the dark forest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya was some thirty meters away when the Blipbug looked straight at the Banette and tapped its trainer on the shoulder with a stubby leg. The trainer stopped walking through the forest and turned to face the same direction as their pokemon. Diya waved enthusiastically but the trainer just held up their lantern and peered in their general direction. “Hello?” the trainer called out in a high wavering voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah, the trainer probably couldn’t see Diya. The circle of light the lantern cast didn’t go that far and it had probably ruined their night vision for anything beyond that. Diya pushed on, trying to get in range of the lantern so it could wave hello. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Blipbug tapped its trainer’s shoulder again, who stiffened. “H-hello?” the trainer called out again. They peered out into the darkness but still couldn’t seem to see Diya. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya waved again as it approached, but without being able to open its mouth, there wasn’t much it could do to properly announce itself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then the trainer, apparently frustrated with the lantern drowning out their vision, shut it off. And promptly fell backward on their butt, into the snow, shrieking at a startlingly high pitch. The poor Blipbug barely avoided getting squished, swinging its body around its trainer to wrap around their torso. And, making matters worse, the trainer dropped their lantern in the fall. They tried patting around in the snow for it, but even with Diya’s pale pink light illuminating them they couldn’t seem to find it. Their night vision had been too ruined by the lantern.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya blinked in startled worry for a few moments before sighing with relief through its nose. Thankfully the other trainer didn’t seem seriously hurt. Though maybe Diya could make a good first impression by helping them up and getting their lantern for them. It certainly knew it wouldn’t want to be alone in the forest at night with no way to see.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was getting close enough the trainer would have easily been able to see them with the lantern lit, just seven or eight meters out, when the trainer called out another pokemon. They pointed the pokeball they’d been holding in their offhand into the darkness and shouted, “Wurmple! Go, defend!” A flash of red light shot out of the pokeball, materializing into a squishy red caterpillar a meter long. It had a short yellow spike on its head, two longer yellow spikes on its tail, and a series of stubby red spikes running down its sides.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh dear, the trainer must be more rattled by the fall than Diya had thought, if they-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The trainer’s high wavering voice shouted, “Wurmple, tackle!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya’s head whipped around in shock. Was there a threat it had missed out there in the for-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Wurmple reared up, revealing an off-white underbelly. Then in one fluid motion it squished itself down like a spring and </span>
  <em>
    <span>exploded</span>
  </em>
  <span> forward. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh. Shit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Wurmple’s head slammed into Diya’s stomach like a wrecking ball. Only Diya’s inner scarf kept its mouth shut tight enough to prevent it from losing its soul as all air was smashed out of the Banette’s lungs. Even so pain thudded through Diya’s stomach and it was flung like a ragdoll backwards into the snow. Diya struggled for breath, torn between conflicting needs to cough and desperately draw in air. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Wurmple wriggled backwards through the snow from its impact point, pulling back towards the trainer it was defending without ever taking its eyes off Diya.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya took advantage of the reprieve, or tried to, by rolling over onto its hands and knees and greedily sucking in air through its nose. Stars and shadows, that </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Its whole abdomen was burning from the impact. It tried to push itself to its feet but a cough wracked its frame and sent it collapsing back into the snow on its side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Wurmple peered out into the darkness, focused on Diya’s glowing pink eyes with its shiny compound yellow ones. The venomous yellow injection horn on its forehead gleamed in the pale light.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya’s eyes flew wide in a sudden panic. Had it-? Diya patted its stomach where the Wurmple had tackled it. There was a hole in the fleece sweater and at least one of the flannel shirts beneath, but no sticky wetness of blood. The layers had stopped the short spike on its forehead from penetrating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wurmple!” the trainer yelled, “Use poison sting!” At its trainer’s command the caterpillar pokemon hunched forward, the front of its body wriggling down into the snow as its back curved up into the air, prominently displaying two wickedly long yellow spikes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Banette blanched, skin turning an ashy gray brown in the reflected light of its eyes. Its layers would not stop </span>
  <em>
    <span>those </span>
  </em>
  <span>from sinking into its flesh. Diya did not want to find out if the venom in those spikes was something its altered physiology could handle, or for that matter if being able to restart a stopped heart would allow it to survive exsanguination. If it was hit with those, it might die right here, before its journey as a trainer can even begin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Wurmple squirmed forward through the snow, spikes held high, and Diya’s moment of recovery was over. It had to fight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya rolled back up onto its hands and knees, ignoring the burning pain in its stomach as best it could, and raised its right hand. Diya pulled in power from the phantom world and reality shrieked as streamers of black and purple energy tore into the physical world to gather in its hand. The purple glow of the shadow ball it formed threw the Wurmple’s face into stark relief and the caterpillar pokemon paused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was fear in the Wurmple’s eyes. Diya had always been strong for a Shuppet, and grown stronger still feeding so closely on the boy’s grief. It had mastered Shadow Ball when its siblings were still practicing the lesser Night Shade and its powers had only grown in evolution. The shadow ball it could use now wouldn’t just blow through the Wurmple, but probably the tree behind it as well. And the Wurmple knew it. The Banette’s power was a thing of death and curses that shuddered through the air to press on the soul. The Wurmple looked at Diya and </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew </span>
  </em>
  <span>it was going to die.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it didn’t retreat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Wurmple twisted to look behind itself at the trainer it was defending, still fumbling around in the snow for their lantern. It looked back at Diya. And it wriggled forward. One centimeter. And then another. And then, picking up speed, it charged. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Diya- </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Didn’t fire.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It couldn’t. This Wurmple was willing to die protecting its terrified trainer and Diya couldn’t kill it for that. Tears leapt to the corners of its eyes and with a shriek of frustration that died in its closed mouth, it aimed its hand down. Diya closed its eyes and, bracing as best it could, fired the shadow ball into the ground between them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snow and earth leapt up into the air with a roar and the Wurmple was flung back a meter, flopping onto its side and rolling with the impact. But the spray of earth hit Diya too, slamming aside the hand holding itself up and knocking it down to lie on its side in the snow again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya grunted and curled into a ball, holding its stomach. It hurt. Stars above, it had never known pain like this when it was a simple spirit. But while it writhed the Wrumple recovered, wriggling back onto its pale stomach and raising its tail spikes again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Breath rushed in through the Banette’s nose as it prepared for the next assault. It didn’t want to kill the Wurmple, but it needed to stop it now and stop it permanently and that left Diya with few options. So it tried something it wasn’t even sure would work. It couldn’t use Screech the same way it had as a Shuppet, not while having to keep its mouth clamped shut, but Screech’s power had never really been a thing of the physical world for Diya anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So as the Wurmple readied itself for another charge Diya drew its power in and, ignoring the fact that it couldn’t speak, </span>
  <em>
    <span>screamed</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The air around Diya shivered and tore, little rents to the phantom world tearing open under the force of the howling terrible noise. Through the flickering rents Diya could see the Wurmple’s spirit, a candle flickering defiantly in its trainer’s defense. But like this, exposed and vulnerable in the phantom world, its spirit had no protections from what Diya was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Diya screamed the Wurmple’s spirit flickered and stuttered and it finally -finally!- gave ground. It backed up only half a body length at first, but the screech only rose in volume and psychic intensity. With its spirit guttering like a candle in a gale the Wurmple broke and fled back to its trainer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods,” the trainer whimpered, still casting about in the snow for their lantern as the Wurmple fled back to cower at their feet. Then- “Oh!” Relief flooded into their high shrill voice. The trainer uttered something low and fervent that had the cadence of prayer and then with a burst of light the electric lantern reignited.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya flinched away from the sudden light, closing its eyes and hissing as its motion aggravated its injury. There was a moment of shocked silence as the trainer saw Diya in the light for the first time. No one moved. Then Diya groaned as a too deep breath pained its stomach, and the trainer leapt into motion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They ran towards Diya as fast as they could, holding up the lantern high in their left hand and using their teeth to tear off the mitten on their right hand. “Oh gods,” they uttered again, but there was a different type of fear in it this time. They dropped to their knees in the snow next to Diya, sliding to stop in their rush.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh no, nononono, that was you in the darkness wasn’t it, it must have been your pokemon with the glowing eyes, oh gods I’m so sorry, oh, oh no my Wurmple tackled you, nononono did it poison you, are you feeling faint? sudden chills that come and go?” A stream of panicked words came from the trainer, but even as they panicked their hands never stopped moving. They set the lantern down and took off their other mitten, gently prodded Diya’s stomach with their bare hands and then -upon finding the hole in Diya’s fleece- immediately dipped into a fanny pack hidden under their jacket and pulled out a spray bottle and a capped syringe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay I’m going to need you to roll over for me. I’m going to pull up your shirt to get a good look at the damage and that might hurt but it’s necessary. You’re going to be just fine but I need you to work with me here.” Again they set to work as they spoke. Diya complied with the trainer’s gentle pushes and rolled over onto its back, groaning as it straightened out and then again as the trainer pulled up its layered shirts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya leaned forward to get a look when the trainer hissed at what they saw. Its stomach was already mottled an ugly red and purple where the Wurmple had slammed into it. “Okay good news,” the trainer said, “the horn didn’t get through your clothes, you only need some potion and dad always makes sure I carry the good stuff, you’ll be just fine in a moment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The trainer aimed the spray bottle and pulled three times, sending spritzes of mist onto Diya’s bared abdomen. Relief was instant. Pain vanished instantly as the potion’s anesthetic kicked in and Diya flopped back with a relieved moan. Muscles it hadn’t even realized it had been tensing loosened and its eyelids fluttered. The Banette could even feel the potion’s regeneration fixing it through the awareness it had of its possessed body. It would take a while before the dead blood was reabsorbed and the bruising faded, but already the capillaries were knitting together or pinching off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Okay,” the trainer breathed out. “You’re okay.” Diya blinked and looked up at the trainer, whose scarf had come loose at some point, getting a good look at them- her, for the first time. At least it thought the trainer was a girl. It hadn’t been terribly clear on the notion of sexual dimorphism or gender as a spirit and the boy’s memories told it that appearances could be deceiving on that matter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The trainer was, as Diya had thought from a distance, very short. Not so young as it might have assumed though. Her face had a sharpness under the baby fat that said she was in her late rather than early teens. Sharp black eyes widened with anxiety peered down at Diya. Her skin and hair were the same color as its, brown and black, but while Diya’s hair was short and wiry it could see wisps of longer straight hair escaping from under her toque. Speaking of which-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya giggled as it looked up at her toque. Perched atop the light green cap was a ball of purple fluff like the ball of white fluff on its own toque. But hers was better, because it was shaped </span>
  <em>
    <span>just like a Venonat</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The trainer’s anxiety was back in an instant. “Oh, oh no I should have asked before I sprayed you, are you allergic to any potion formulas? Are you underweight? Have you ever had a bad reaction to potion before? I shouldn’t have done three spritzes without checking-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya reached up and folded one of its gloved hands around one of her fretting worrying hands and shook its head. It pointed with its other hand at her toque, giggling some more. With the shock of the fight and the pain suddenly being over and all that adrenaline still rushing through its body, it couldn’t help but laugh. It was just, it was a tiny little Venonat bobbing up and down on top of her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?” she said, raising her free hand to where Diya was pointing. “What’s-” her hand made contact with the fluffy Venonat. “Oh.” Her face went through confusion, incomprehension, and recognition in an instant, before finally settling into a disbelieving laugh. “Oh. Oh hahaha. Hahahahahaha.” And then like a dam bursting she was laughing harder than Diya was, leaning over the Banette and laughing until tears streamed down her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took a long minute for them both to stop laughing and collect themselves, laughter petering out into silence in the snowy night. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally the trainer said, “Um, here, let me help you up,” she extended a hand and stood up, pulling Diya to its feet when it took her hand, where it towered over her by a good fifteen centimeters. “I’m- I’m June. Lepida June. And I am so sorry for attacking you. I saw a pair of glowing eyes in the darkness and I guess that must have been your pokemon?” her voice turned up into a question, “and all I was thinking was that there’s no pokemon native to this area like that but Kenomao is supposed to have a lot of ghosts and-” June stopped and collected herself. “I’m sorry. What’s your name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya blinked. With all of the talking she’d been doing, it had almost forgotten that opening its mouth and responding is something it’d be expected to do in conversation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Banette pointed at its mouth under the scarves, then its throat, and then shook its hand back and forth in a cutting motion. ‘I cannot speak’, it hope it got across.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You … can’t speak? Oh! Oh no let me get the potion again-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya cut off June’s fumbling through her fanny pack with a negatory swipe of its hand. It repeated the motions, then pointed at the Wurmple -peeking out from around a tree a couple meters behind June- and made another negatory swipe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! You can’t talk at all! In general, I mean. You’re mute.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya nodded. That was as good an explanation as any, and it had the benefit of being effectively true too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, well can you spell out your name for me? I’d- oh wait!” June’s eyes had followed Diya’s finger to her Wurmple and they suddenly widened. “I’m so sorry give me a moment!” June whirled around, rushing to her Wurmple and kneeling before it. She picked it up with both arms and an “oof” of effort, cradling it close. Out from behind the tree and held up off the ground like this, Diya could see the pokemon was shivering violently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shhh, shhh,” June whispered to it. “I’m sorry Wurmy, I know the cold is awful and it hurts, but I’m gonna put you right back in your pokeball. And I’ll get you some nice warm broth when we’re back at the hotel, how does that sound? You did so good today, you were such a brave girl. You protected me so well-” June kept up the string of babbling comfort talk to it until she’d walked it into the clearing where she’d left the Wurmple’s pokeball. She crouched down awkwardly to pick it up without letting go of the hefty caterpillar pokemon and then, in a flash of red light, it disappeared back into the red and white sphere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once her pokemon was taken care of she turned back to Diya, smiling sadly. “Sorry about that. She’s really not designed for a winter environment-” she’s interrupted by a sudden shiver. “Or am I. I got snow all up the back of my jacket and- and you!” she exclaimed. “You must be freezing, I just stripped you half naked while you were lying in the snow!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya blinked. Half-naked was a rather serious exaggeration, as was freezing. Diya had gotten some snow on its back, its stomach had been exposed to the air, and its sweater and pants might be a bit wet from the tumble in the snow, but it was fine. It had </span>
  <em>
    <span>resurrected </span>
  </em>
  <span>from complete hypothermic organ failure earlier that night. It didn’t need June’s help to-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>June fished through her fanny pack and pulled out a small black storage ball, which she pointed at Diya. There was a flash of red light and a big thick wool blanket appeared, engulfing the top half of Diya’s body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya huffed in surprise and clawed its head free of the blanket, readjusting it so that the blanket draped around it and its head poked out. It got free just in time to see another flash of red light and a perfectly constructed log cabin campfire -unlit- appear in a hollow June had cleared in the snow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay come here kid,” June said -Diya blinked, wondering if she was older than it thought or if she thought its body looked younger than it was- “let’s get you warm.” A moment later she shivered herself. “And me too. Brrr, snow went right down my pants earlier.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>June began kicking away the snow around the wood, clearing a patch of bare earth and Diya stepped in to help. Its sneakers weren’t the best for the job, but they’d stopped being dry hours ago anyway and the cold wasn’t enough to stop Diya’s body from moving. Kicking the earth clear only took a few minutes, but as they worked Diya noticed June was shivering more and more. Her clothes looked more waterproof than Diya’s were, but she’d still fallen down and scrambled around in the snow earlier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they were done June crouched down next to the fire and pulled out a camping lighter. She flicked it, once, twice, three times, then over and over, but her hands were shaking too hard to get a good grip on it. And once she finally did manage to get a flame from it, it shook and wavered on the end of the lighter. It didn’t seem to be doing much good to light the tinder in the center of the neatly stacked wood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya swallowed, watching the trainer struggle with the fire and the cold. It pulled the blanket off of its shoulders and wrapped them around hers, shaking its head at her protest. “I’m fine, I’m f-fine, I’m not actually that cold, ‘s just the adrenaline wearing off, you need it more-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>While June was protesting the return of her wool blanket, Diya held its gloved right hand out palm up over the wood. It focused its will to a burning point and with the </span>
  <b>
    <em>snap-hiss</em>
  </b>
  <span> of an acetylene torch igniting a blue streak of fire burst into existence above its palm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-than me,” June trailed off weakly. “What-?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya fed power into the flame, drawing on the sudden tang of June’s apprehension and renewed nervousness to ease the effort. The blue fire ballooned in size, becoming a rippling transparent orb the size of Diya’s head. Faint heat radiated from the hissing faerie fire, not enough to char or burn most things, but enough to ignite flammable materials. Diya pulled its hand back, leaving the faerie fire floating in place above the logs and tinder. Then with a wave of its hand and the press of its will, it dropped the fire down onto the logs. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Whoomp</em>
  </b>
  <span> went the logs with a sudden rush of heat and indrawn air, and then there was an orange campfire crackling merrily in front of them. Diya held out its hands to the fire, shivering pleasantly with the rush of heat soaking through its clothes. It made a show of nonchalance, warming itself for a few long moments before looking sideways down at June. It swallowed nervously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>June blinked, stunned and for the moment lost for words. Then she blinked again, sharp black eyes narrowing as she looked closer at Diya’s face. She peered closer and then exclaimed, “Oh! Oh your sclera are pink! And they glow! Those were </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> eyes in the forest earlier, not your pokemon’s!” She glanced at the crackling fire and then back up at Diya. “Are you-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya swallowed again. It had known pink eyes might be a bit of a giveaway about its nature, but it had been … kind of purposely not thinking about what people might think about them and hoping it wouldn’t be an issue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-psychic?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Banette froze. What.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>wow</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I’d heard that some of the stronger psychic family lines had some distinguishing physical features, but I hadn’t realized your eyes could </span>
  <em>
    <span>glow</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Wait no what am I thinking, of course they can glow, we’ve all seen that video of Leader Sabrina overchanneling her powers against that Mega Steelix. I didn’t realize they could just glow all the time though. Or that you could make </span>
  <em>
    <span>fire</span>
  </em>
  <span> with psychic powers. That is what you did, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Approximately a hundred thoughts went through Diya’s head in an instant without any of them finding purchase, so the Banette just nodded slowly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s amazing! I’m trying to evolve my Blipbug into an Orbeetle one day, but I heard it’s really hard to care for them psychically during their intermediate evolution so I’d love to be able to mine your brain for tips and- aaaaand you still can’t talk and I haven’t even gotten your name yet!” June flushed bright red. “I’m, uh, Lepida June. I’m glad to meet you. What’s your name, can you spell it out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya nodded carefully. It held out a finger in the air and traced four letters, D-I-Y-A. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Dee-yuh?” June sounded out the name and hummed happily when Diya nodded once more. “Okay, well, uh, okay first come here. You’re just standing there all cold!” June pulled them both down to sit on the bare earth next to the fire, and opened up the wool blanket to pull Diya into it as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya found itself pulled unexpectedly against the trainer’s side and swaddled under the blanket with her. It froze for a moment, unsure of what to do or what was happening. But then June shivered slightly and the next thing Diya knew its arm was around her shoulders and it was pressing up to her as close as it could. It reached inside of itself and gripped its heart too, forcing it to beat faster and faster to heat its body for hers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh wow,” she murmured. “You’re like a furnace. No wonder you didn’t need the blanket. Thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>June stopped shivering quickly and Diya forced itself to let go of her a little bit. She wasn’t dying, it told itself. Her hands had been a bit stiff because she’d been searching through the snow and she’d been shivering a bit because it was a cold night even with her warm clothes, but she wasn’t dying. She was okay, and warm, and safe, and had a fire, and wasn’t dying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Diya loosened its grip, it felt the oddest wriggling motion where its arm had been wrapped around her back. The Blipbug which had been hanging on June’s back earlier squirmed up from inside June’s down jacket, poking its head up behind hers and freeing itself from the confines of her jacket and the blanket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Blipbug stared at Diya from a handspan away, huge silvery compound eyes reflecting the Banette’s pink ones in a thousand shattered images. Diya blinked. A vertical slit opened in the bottom of the Blipbug’s face, revealing wriggling mandibles and maxillae. Mouthparts wriggling, it hissed at Diya, “Bllliiiiiiiiiiiiihhhkkhhkhkhkh”.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya jerked back and June exclaimed at her pokemon, “Igor, no! No! Diya is a friend! Igor, friendly!” The Blipbug’s hissing subsided at the last exclamation and it flattened itself to the back of her head, still staring unblinkingly at Diya. “I’m so sorry, I think you really scared him earlier, he just needed to be told you were safe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya blinked and nodded. It was doing a lot of that with June. It kept its head pulled back though, eyes fixed on the shattered reflections in Igor’s eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>June sighed. “He’s still staring at you isn’t he?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s … look, Blipbugs are already like that naturally, and I trained Igor for observation, and he’s probably still at least a little scared of you. He’s not going to stop staring at you for a good long while. I promise he won’t attack you though, now that I’ve designated you as a friendly. Igor is very well trained, I swear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhmmm,” Diya hummed, reluctantly letting itself relax back towards June and the Bug Of Many Mouthparts. Igor stared but, as promised, didn’t hiss again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Soooo…” June drew out, “what brings you out into the forest in the middle of the night?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya stared at June blankly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Right. Mute. Hehehe. Sorry. Uh … how do you feel about twenty questions? I ask yes-no questions, try to narrow down an answer?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya shrugged. Sure, why not? The Banette held up one finger to June though, asking her to wait first. It wriggled around under the blanket and, with effort, yanked off its sneakers and socks. They weren’t quite soaked, but the sneakers were certainly not waterproof and Diya’s footwear was fairly damp. It propped them up in front of the fire and fished its extra dry socks out of its pockets to put on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Banette groaned happily as it slipped the fresh dry socks on. Stars above, that was heavenly. It wriggled its toes in their new cozy enclosures, catching June looking at them spectuatively. Diya raised an eyebrow at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, uh, are you okay with those sneakers? In the winter?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya nodded. It would get better boots when it could, but so long as the sneakers kept its feet from freezing solid they’d do for now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>June looked skeptical, but didn’t argue. “Alright, uh, you a local?” Nod. “And you </span>
  <em>
    <span>are </span>
  </em>
  <span>psychic, right?” Nod. Diya had no problems letting that misconception stand. “Does it run in the family?” Shake. “Are you a pokemon trainer?” Diya bobbed its head side to side for ‘kind of’. “New trainer?” Nod.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few rounds of questioning Diya established some basics about itself. It was a new pokemon trainer looking to start its journey in Canopy Town. It was a local. There was some last-minute deadline tomorrow which meant it had to set out at night, but Diya shook its head enough when June tried to pin down what that deadline was for that she eventually dropped the question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes, it was safe travelling at night without a pokemon escort. Yes, that was because it was ‘psychic’. No it was not telepathic nor could it read minds - this seemed to disappoint June, who muttered about how cool it would be to read pokemon minds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya was its first name, yes. Yes, it was an odd name. No, that was not a masculine name or a feminine name. No, Diya was not a boy or a girl either. June paused a moment before asking Diya if it was nonbinary which … it guessed? Probably? It nodded yes to June, anyway. Fortunately that question signalled the end of any more questions Diya might not know how to answer, because it got June started on a rant about insect sexes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A very, very impassioned rant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bees,” June insisted, “have a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lot</span>
  </em>
  <span> more sexes than people give them credit for.” She glowered into a middle distance past Diya’s face. She opened her mouth but didn’t say anything, instead pausing for a moment before closing it. June glanced over at Diya, making eye contact. “Do you mind if I, uh, talk a bit about this? Uh, a lot about it? It’s kind of a Thing for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya smiled and nodded. Was she kidding? Of course it wanted to hear this. It smiled wider to make sure June could see its smile even above its scarves. Not even a day into its pokemon journey and it was getting taught new things by another pokemon trainer! A pokemon trainer who might even be a friend! The boy had had fairly limited experience making friends, but from what little he’d known, Diya was pretty sure that huddling together for warmth on a cold winter night talking about things you loved was </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span> how friends were made.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>June took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Alright,” she started, “so you know how some fish can change their sex after they’re born?” Diya nodded, one of the boy’s teachers had a water pokemon like that. “Right, well when a fish changes its morphology and how it reproduces, we all say it changed from male to female, or female to male, right? Even if it’s genome stays the same?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Banette nodded its comprehension.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So if I were to tell you that a particular bee starts out with a particular morphology, and then changes to one of two sexually dimorphic reproductive types based on environmental factors -</span>
  <em>
    <span>just like those fish everyone describes as changing sexes-”</span>
  </em>
  <span> June growled that last part, “would you say those two distinct types of bee are the same sex?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya shook its head. This was great. The boy’s most enjoyable teachers had always been interactive like this and here its maybe-new-friend was proving to be just as interesting!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” June cried out, “You wouldn’t! Obviously!” June tried to throw her hands up in the air and only succeeded in messing up their blanket a bit. “But nooooooo. Queen bees and worker bees have the same genome so they </span>
  <em>
    <span>must</span>
  </em>
  <span> both be female. Totally different sexual patterns and reproductive organs, complete sexual dimorphism, but no, they’re definitely both females, we should use the same sex identifier for both of them. And even worse-!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rant went on for a </span>
  <em>
    <span>while</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Diya had to admit it lost the thread of what June was saying a few times, especially at the part where she somehow jumped from bees to how neotenic breeding worked in insect pokemon. And, uh, everything about how that related to silk farming. But even if it wasn’t following the breeding science all that well, it was learning tons about June herself!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For one, she was a lot more confident when talking about bug pokemon than when she was freaking out alone in the dark woods. This was because she’d grown up on a bug pokemon farm. Her family harvested silk and chitin from them-and some pharmaceutical poisons as a side business- so June knew a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lot</span>
  </em>
  <span> about bug pokemon. At least in captivity. She had a little less experience interacting with wild pokemon. Okay maybe a lot less experience. No experience. It couldn’t be that different though, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least that’s what she’d thought before panicking when two terrifying glowing pink eyes came floating towards her out of the darkness -Diya preened, that was just what every Banette wanted to hear about its eyes- and spending the whole night prior to that failing to find a Spinarak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya tilted its head questioningly at that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, right,” June said, finally losing a bit of steam in her long ramble. “Uh, that’s why I was out here tonight, looking for a Spinarak. Uh, you’re a native, you know how Kenomao’s got a lot of Pokemon variants, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It did. The boy had listened to more than a few old-timers grumble about how Kenomao Island had been passed over for a coveted ‘Variant Region’ designation back in the day. The island had a lot of pokemon with unusual quirks or abilities because of its varied climate and distance from the mainland, variants that you couldn’t find anywhere else. But apparently they had to be different elemental types entirely to qualify as ‘true’ variants, so no Variant Region designation was ever awarded to Kenomao.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>June continued at Diya’s nod. “Right, so one of those variants is the Spinaraks you’ve got in this forest. Most arachnid pokemon, you expose their silk to too much cold and it gets all flakey and crumbly. Makes it a real problem selling their thread anywhere out of the tropics. No one wants a shirt or a rope that’ll fall apart in the first snow. But not here! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Your</span>
  </em>
  <span> Spinaraks’ thread does just fine in the cold.”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Course they’re only active at night and the burrows they sleep in during the day are almost impossible to find without the right scenting pokemon so … here I am. Out in the woods in the middle of the night. Getting so scared by a psychic kid with glowing eyes that I sicced my Wurmple on him.” June grimaced, guilt staining her expression. “I- gods. Again, I’m sorry about that. Really sorry. I-” She swallowed hard. “I’m glad you’re alright.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya patted June’s arm under the blanket. It didn’t blame her, truly. It should have thought about how its eyes floating in the darkness would appear to her. Having haunting eyes was something to be proud of, of course, but so was discretion. Scaring the living daylights out of someone who threw away cherished possessions like garbage was laudable, but terrifying their innocent little sibling or child was just needlessly cruel. Every Banette knew that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Besides, if it had been some other Banette possessing a discarded childhood doll of hers, June’s reaction might have saved her a great deal of pain and misery. Diya would be rooting for the Banette in that scenario, to be sure, but it still wasn’t going to criticize a healthy self-preservation instinct.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>June sighed as Diya patted her arm. “Eugh. Just … look kid, Diya, I feel awful. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Was there?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, there was! Diya poked an arm out of the blanket and mimed throwing a pokeball to catch a pokemon. Then it pointed from June to itself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You … want a pokeball?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya nodded vigorously. Yes! It did. If she gave it a pokeball, it wouldn’t have to steal any at Canopy Town!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just a pokeball?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, that tone of voice made it sound like it could ask for more. Diya held up three fingers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Three pokeballs?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>June opened her mouth, thought better of whatever she was going to say, then narrowed her eyes at Diya. “Alright. Three pokeballs it is. But- hmmm. You’re going straight on to Canopy Town after this, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was the plan, yes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, well I’ll be staying out here for another hour or two, I still wanna see if I can catch that Spinarak. But tomorrow we’ll both be in Canopy Town, so let me buy you lunch. Do you have a ‘dex number I can call?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya shook its head. It had a pokedex in theory, but it had left it back in the boy’s home. It might as well be on the moon covered in radioactive dust so far as it was concerned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>June gave the Banette a decidedly odd look at that. Which it supposed was fair. Fifty years ago journeying with only access to landline phones might have been common, but these days every kid traveled with a pokedex that could make calls to keep in touch with their parents. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course you don’t have a pokedex either,” June muttered to herself. “Okay, ummm, look you’re going to be staying at the Pokecenter, right? Whatever. Wherever you stay, there’s a good buffet place just a block away from the Pokecenter. Walk out the doors, turn right, walk a block, The Mighty Meowth will be on your left, can’t miss it. Ask for directions to the good buffet place at the pokecenter if you forget. I’ll be there at … fourteen hundred? I’ll treat you to a late lunch, we can both sleep in and we’ll miss the lunch rush.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few rapid blinks and miming the directions to make sure it got them right, Diya nodded its agreement. It really had made a friend! Probably. If June wasn’t a friend yet, Diya was determined to make her a friend when they met up tomorrow! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A comfortable silence fell over them after that. They both stayed by the fire warming up for a few more minutes before Igor squirmed against the back of June’s neck and began tapping her shoulder with a nubby limb. June stretched in response, cracking her spine and slowly letting the blanket slide off her. “Aaahhhhh,” she groaned. “Well, that’s my cue to get moving Diya. Igor spotted something. Odds are it’s not a Spinarak again but,” she shrugged and changed her voice to a slower and lower register, clearly imitating someone, “‘You miss all the shots you don’t take.’”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was good advice, Diya thought. It stretched as well, grateful for how its inner scarf helped it resist the urge to yawn. They put out the fire together, and June returned its remains and the wool blanket to their storage balls. She gave Diya three pokeballs too, and a small pouch for them it could tie to its waist when she noticed Diya was just going to store them in its pockets. When they were done they stood across from one another and Diya held out its hand to shake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>June smiled lopsidedly, but she took Diya’s hand warmly and shook anyway. “Heh. I’m still sorry for how we met but … hopefully I can make it up to you. Make this a meeting worth having anyway, yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya shook its head in negation. She was being silly. It was already worth it. And if she couldn’t see that ... Diya reached up and pulled both of its scarves down to its chin. With its mouth uncovered it beamed down at her, scrunching its cheeks up and smiling as wide as it could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The shorter trainer made a ‘pfe’ sound like something had knocked the wind out of her. She whispered quietly to herself, “Oh gods you’re too precious for this world.” She slapped a hand over her mouth a moment later, flushing violently. “Oh I’m so sorry I don’t know where that came from I-!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Banette giggled, covering its mouth with a hand to keep it shut. It just shook its head again, still smiling. It pointed at her, then itself, mimed eating, and then flashed ten and four fingers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-” June let out a defeated breath. “Yeah I’ll see you at fourteen hundred tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya walked back to the path, waving goodbye as it went. It caught one last parting comment from June as it left though, muttered quietly enough that Diya probably hadn’t been meant to hear it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Igor don’t think I missed you eyeing that kid’s scarf. If you eat it tomorrow you are not getting treats for a week do you hear me?”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A note about Banettes and gender and pronouns.</p><p>In Pokemon Shuppets and Banettes technically have a male/female sex split, but that's ... kind of complicated. In the lore certain ghost pokemon like Shuppet are spontaneously generated under the right conditions, and clearly Banettes do not have reproductive organs. But in-game they're given male/female tags so they can be part of the daycare breeding mechanics and lay eggs. So there's a bit of a dissonance there which I could have chosen to resolve in either direction, saying either is how Shuppets and Banettes 'really' work in my story.</p><p>I'm leaning harder on the ~spooky~ side of things for Ghost pokemon lore, so I'm going with standard sexual reproduction cycles as being totally unrelated to how Shuppets propagate. As such they don't have sexes, or the corresponding mental predisposition to experience gender. Furthermore Banettes possess <i>objects</i> and associate heavily with the theme of an object come to life. So if I'm already doing away with gendered shorthand signifiers, 'it' makes as much sense as 'they'.</p><p>Then, finally, in English our gender neutral singular pronoun unfortunately does double-duty as our gender ambiguous plural pronoun. And I really didn't want there to be confusion about whether there was some situation of two distinct and separate minds inside Diya, the boy's mind and the Banette's mind existing independently as a plural entity. So I decided not to use 'they' for Diya and instead use 'it' for its internal narrative. I hope that makes sense, and hope Diya using 'it' to refer to itself isn't confusing or off-putting.</p><p>Blipbug (Bug):<br/></p><p>Wurmple (Bug):<br/></p><p> Venonat (Bug/Poison):<br/></p><p>Spinarak (Bug/Poison):<br/></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Episode 5: A Necromancer's Kindness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Content warning: This chapter contains a pokemon dying as part of a natural predator/prey interaction.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Spinarak is a nocturnal Pokémon that lives in temperate and tropical forests. It spins webs that are strong enough to withstand having stones set on them and act as nets for fishermen. A patient hunter, it can wait for days for prey to become ensnared in its web. Spinarak and its evolved form Ariados are the only known Pokémon that can learn Toxic Thread.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-----</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was four in the morning when Diya tasted pain on the air. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A whiff of it washed across Diya’s path and the Banette came stumbling to a stop. The intensity shocked it, the searing sensation of acid melting through flesh settling on its tongue like rich chocolate. It was gone a moment later, the ghostly imprint of the feeling carried away by ethereal winds.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Diya knew what it had felt. Somewhere nearby a pokemon was dying.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What should it do? If it were still a Shuppet it would have rushed to the source, drawing the suffering from the dying thing to ease its passing while sating its own hunger. And it would have fed well. Pokemon were rarely as rich meals as humans were, but a death like this would have still kept it full for days.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But now it was a Banette. Banettes were self-contained in a way Shuppets weren’t. They didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> to feed on others’ grief. The tragedy they absorbed when they completed their possession fueled them from the inside. Diya didn’t have to go to the dying pokemon’s side and drain its grief if it didn’t want to. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And if the pokemon was dying in such pain … Diya might not want to. It had a physical body now, something vulnerable to the mundane threats of the world in a way its mere spirit form hadn’t been. It could be hurt. Going to ease the pokemon’s passing might mean coming into conflict with whatever was killing it. The boy’s journey it was fulfilling might end before it even started.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But as Diya entertained the notion of not going to the pokemon’s side, it found it was already in motion. It strode off the path in the general direction the pain had come from, taking long lunging steps to make speed. It pulled its scarves down and -carefully!- opened its mouth just enough to draw in a sharp breath without losing hold of its soul. Phantom impressions flickered over its tongue. Old hunger, tiredness, hunger, fear, hunger, hunger, hunger, so many fading impressions of hunger in the wintry forest. But cutting through it all was the sharp tang of pain and helplessness and fear, Fear, FEAR. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diya homed in on that fear, following it unerringly through the forest. It didn’t take it long to find the source and Diya breathed a sharp sympathetic breath when it saw it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Webbed to the underside of a tree’s branch was a Snom. The larval ice pokemon was a small white lump the size of Diya’s head, with its whole body but its head covered in a bluntly spiky shell of transparent ice. Not much of the shell could be seen though. It was wriggling weakly under a cocoon of sticky white webbing and crouched over the Snom, obscuring it from view, was a Spinarak.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Spinarak turned to Diya as the Banette approached, staring silently. It was smaller and paler than mainland Spinaraks, only a little bit larger than the Snom and its main body a pale green-tinged off-white. The splotches of color on its back outlining a ‘face’ -barely more than two spots for eyes and a curved line for a mouth- were an icy blue. And its venomous horn was a glazed blue, looking almost like an icicle rather than keratin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diya slowed its approach as the Spinarak came into view, but didn’t stop. It needed to be closer to take the Snom’s pain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Spinarak crouched over its prey, pulling itself in close to the underside of the branch it was hanging from. It raised its abdomen, presenting the ‘face’ there to Diya, and stood stock still.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nothing happened to Diya, but from beneath the Spinarak Diya could taste the Snom’s fear spiking even higher, turning into a mindless drumbeat of ‘run, run, get away, run, run, get away, run, run, get away’. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Banette paused as understanding came from the boy’s mind. The Spinarak was using Scary Face, a terror-inducing ability. Trainers called it a ‘Normal’ type move and, for whatever reason, they didn’t affect ghosts. However such powers were transmitted they operated on a wavelength totally incompatible with the phantom world. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It blinked. That was useful information. Raticates and Snubbulls had done similar things when faced with Diya as a Shuppet but it had never understood what they were doing or why other pokemon were scared by it. Now it did. Humans knew so many interesting things.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Like how being fully unaffected by Scary Face was typically a sign of immense power disparity, so weaker pokemon often used it as an opening move to avoid combat. If it worked, the pokemon won without having to risk a potentially damaging physical fight. If it failed, the pokemon knew it was outmatched and retreated.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So Diya kept striding forward unphased. The Spinarak only kept up the Scary Face for a few seconds. As soon as it saw it wasn’t working, it fled. The spider pokemon skittered to the end of the branch and leapt away to a neighboring tree. Then along that tree and to the next, and the next, vanishing beyond the pale pink light of Diya’s eyes into the distance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Banette rushed over to the trapped Snom as soon as the Spinarak was gone. Pain and helplessness lay thick on the Banette’s tongue, pulsing from the quivering larval pokemon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diya didn’t touch the Snom. Spinarak web was laced with a poison that disoriented the senses and weakened one’s muscles. It wouldn’t do nearly as much to a human as a much smaller Snom, but touching it was still a bad idea. And besides, the Snom was beyond saving.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At the base of the Snom’s neck, right where its icy shell stopped covering its body, was a sluggishly bleeding puncture wound. Pain boiled and bubbled up from it, flickering into visible black smoke under the glow of the Banette’s eyes. The Spinarak had already injected the larva with its digestive venom. It was dissolving from the inside.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something inside the Banette’s chest ached. It wasn’t that death or violence repulsed it. Diya had been intimately familiar with both as a Shuppet and the boy’s ecology teachers had raised him with no illusions about how brutal the act of animal predation could be. Predators existed and the cost of their survival was death, that was a fact of life. But still, the Snom was in so much pain. It was slowly dissolving from the inside out, half-paralyzed, bound and helpless. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was scared. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But with Diya here it didn’t have to be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diya opened its mouth and </span>
  <em>
    <span>pulled</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It reached into the phantom world where the Snom’s soul burned, pouring off the cloying black smoke of tragedy and despair, and it took that smoke into itself. In the physical world streamers of black smoke from the Snom, carrying the poor thing’s tragedy with it. Pain, helplessness, fear, resignation, all of it poured into Diya’s mouth to be consumed. It didn’t have to carry that to its grave. Diya would take it instead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Snom shuddered once and relaxed in its webbed bindings. It didn’t stop trying to escape. It still knew it was caught in a Spinarak’s web and it tried to wriggle free. But there wasn’t the same edge of helpless panic to its movements. The venom didn’t cause it to spasm in agony. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diya breathed in and in and in, drawing the Snom’s grief into itself to join the roiling mass of grey smoke that filled the Banette. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually the Snom stilled. It had tried its bonds. It had not escaped. The venom was not going to stop killing it. There was nothing left for it to do. But it was also not resigned, not hopelessly awaiting its doomed end. Diya consumed that too, sparing the Snom that. Diya took its pains, and left it with peace.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diya stood there with it for long minutes. The Snom wasn’t in pain. And it wasn’t alone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As time passed the Snom’s awareness dimmed and the smoke lessened. Its brain was shutting down. There wasn’t much left within it to feel pain. The smoke thinned further and eventually stuttered. The Snom stilled. Its heart had stopped. In the phantom world the Snom’s flame dimmed and dimmed, and finally collapsed into an ember. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diya sucked up that ember with the very last of the smoke and with that, the Snom was gone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Banette closed its mouth before any of the smoke it had absorbed could come rushing back out. It wound its light blue and pale red plaid tightly around its closed mouth, and then lay the white Piplup scarf over that. And then it stood there a while and just … breathed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was still standing there, collecting itself and its thoughts when the Spinarak came back. Diya tasted it before it saw or heard it. The Spinarak was well camouflaged as it crept across the snowy ground towards Diya and it didn’t make a whisper of sound as it moved. But that didn’t stop it from tasting of hunger, of frustration at a meal denied and fear at what hunger was driving it to do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diya backed away from the tree the Snom’s corpse was webbed to, giving ground. The Spinarak could have its meal now that Diya didn’t have to stand by and let a creature suffer for it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But the Spinarak had apparently decided it wasn’t going to have peace with the Banette around. It skittered past the Snom’s corpse and kept coming, eyes fixed on its enemy. It lowered its horn in preparation for a charge.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well then. If it wasn’t going to let Diya be, Diya could give it a fight. And -it pulled out one of the pokeballs from the pouch June had given it, holding it in its right hand- it might as well get started on this whole pokemon trainer business at the same time. Diya pulled in power as the Spinarak came towards it, readying itself to respond to the spider pokemon’s aggression.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Spinarak raced forward, looking for all the world like it intended to charge headlong at Diya in a frontal assault. But then, only a couple meters from Diya, it changed course. It flashed sideways in a lateral lunge and the instant it touched down lunged again at Diya from the side. Its venomous horn shot towards Diya’s side, aiming to pierce deep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But merely changing the direction of its attack wasn’t going to let it get one over on Diya. It had been thinking about how it would deal with just this kind of situation after its near disaster with June’s Wurmple and it was prepared.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even as the Spinarak left the ground and flew through the air, Diya was stepping out of the way. Not to the side but </span>
  <em>
    <span>up.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The world exploded into wispy black veils and fiery purple shadows and from Diya’s perspective the Spinarak’s burning soul flew straight through its body and out the other side. It landed awkwardly, the wispy black veils that made up its limbs in this place crumpling awkwardly against its body as it made an unexpected landing in the snow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diya turned to follow its trajectory. The moment it landed Diya thrust its left hand out to occupy the same space the Spinarak did. And then Diya stepped back down into the physical world. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A heavy </span>
  <b>
    <em>thud</em>
  </b>
  <span> jarred up Diya’s arm as the limb reasserted its space in the physical world and violently disagreed with the base matter that had the presumption to stake a prior claim. The return step translated into an explosion of force that threw the Spinarak out of the space Diya’s hand now occupied. The spider pokemon flew across the snow to slam into a tree with a sharp </span>
  <b>
    <em>crack</em>
  </b>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Banette readied a Night Shade in its offhand to hurl at the Spinarak if it looked like it was going to resume the fight. But no such fight was forthcoming. The Spinarak twitched and tried to right itself, but failed. It had difficulty even focusing its gaze on its opponent.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A moment passed as Diya waited for a fakeout or a feint, but none was coming. The Spinarak was defeated. Tentatively, still waiting for the other shoe to drop, Diya shifted the pokeball in its right hand. It just needed to throw the ball at the Spinarak to catch it, right? The boy had practiced this in school before but-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diya’s hand was sweaty. It swallowed nervously. Well. As June had said, ‘you miss all the shots you don’t take’. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The ball flew. It bopped the Spinarak on the head, a light </span>
  <b>
    <em>tap</em>
  </b>
  <span> of contact. Then it fell to the snow and popped open, red and white halves splitting apart. A burst of red light surged out to envelop the Spinarak and then a moment later the pokemon was gone. There was just a pokeball rocking gently back and forth on the snow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A held breath exploded from Diya’s lungs. It had done it! It had captured a pokemon! </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Delighted laughter bubbled in the back of its throat as it danced and skipped and jumped up and down in the snow. It did it! It caught a pokemon! A predator pokemon too! Not just a Rattata or a Pidgey for practice, but an aggressive wild predator pokemon! </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And it had done it itself! Not even using a starter, a pokemon bred and trained to be responsive to inexperienced trainers. It had captured a Spinarak with nothing but its own two hands! Diya spun around, trampling snow and kicking sprays of powder everywhere. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It had done it. It could do this. It could complete the boy’s dream. Diya raised its head to the sky, breath puffing out of its nostrils in white plumes of steam. Under its scarves, it smiled. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>would</span>
  </em>
  <span> do this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diya collected the Spinarak’s pokeball without much fanfare, electing to tuck it in a pocket rather than back with the empty pokeballs where Diya might mix them up. And before returning to the path, it took time to bow to the Snom’s corpse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The young pokemon trainer had benefited from its death, and that deserved thanks. But also, more important than that, the Snom had lived. Before it died it had breathed and felt and grown. And that deserved respect.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diya held the bow for half a minute in the silent forest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-----</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The night sky was just beginning to lighten when Diya made it to Canopy Town. The sun wasn’t peeking out yet, but the sky peeking out through the clouds was dark blue rather than black. So Diya hurried, rushing to get to the Pokecenter before the town woke up. It would take the time to look at the town properly tomorrow, right now it needed rest and a place off the streets.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fortunately the Pokecenter was easy to find. Signs on almost every street corner pointed the way to it, in multiple languages. Diya slipped through the quiet predawn town to it without eany trouble.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a big two story red and white building. A </span>
  <em>
    <span>big</span>
  </em>
  <span> building. For all that Canopy Town was bigger than Ledos Village it was still a small town, but its pokecenter was large enough to be more a campus than a building. The central building was marked by the classic segmented white pokeball circle of pokecenters everywhere. On the ground floor it had a big central lobby, offices, and a cafeteria, with hotel rooms to stay in on the top floor. Scattered around it were half a dozen ancillary structures, a shop, a computer center, a tiny museum, a pokemon park, a pool, and a gym (for humans).</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diya slipped into the phantom world to peer through the pokecenter’s walls. Humans souls shone like blazing fires from rooms on the second floor, making it easy enough to mark which rooms were empty. It could probably sneak into one for a nap easily enough. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well. It could also just walk up to the tired person it saw manning the first floor lobby and say it was a kid with no money who needed a place to sleep. Diya was pretty sure it would actually be breaking a law for them to not let it use the pokecenter to sleep. It was just also against the law for them to not notify the parents who had discarded Diya’s boy. So Diya would not be doing that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diya slipped past the tired person in the lobby easily enough and made its way up to the second floor. It used the phantom world to slip through the walls and into an uninhabited room, making the black fluttering floors hold solid for its feet and the walls part for it with a flicker of focus. It winced at the </span>
  <b>
    <em>fwoomp</em>
  </b>
  <span> of displaced air it made when it stepped back into the physical world, but there was no way around that. It would just have to hope it didn’t wake anyone up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And, finally, it was safe. Alone at last enclosed by four walls. It had trudged thirty rough kilometers through the night, fought two pokemon, evolved, and resurrected the dead. It had been a </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> long night. Diya took a moment to grab the Do Not Disturb sign on the inside of the door and hang it on the outside, but after that it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>done</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Diya was going to see if it could sleep in this new body and nothing on Arceus’ blue Earth was going to stop it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It shed clothes haphazardly over the floor on its way to the bed, keeping only the inner scarf binding its mouth shut. The Banette wriggled into the tightly tucked in hotel bedsheets, moaning with relief at the feeling of clean soft sheets. Its eyes were already closed by the time it had wriggled all the way in and it wasn’t about to open them again, so it groped about blind for a pillow to cuddle. Pillow thus acquired and pulled close, sheets wrapped tight around its body, and comfort achieved, Diya let itself go limp to seek sleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It drifted off within seconds.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-----</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diya thrashed around in its sleep as the sun peeked through the room’s curtains. Unhappy disgruntled noises came from its covered mouth. It grumbled, twisting and turning under the covers. The Banette’s dreams were full of pressure. The need for something to be released.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It groaned, unconsciously pawing at its scarf in its sleep. Finally, one limp flopping hand found purchase and it pulled the scarf down. Diya’s mouth shot open with a gasp of relief and an almost transparent purple haze rushed out of its mouth. The Banette finally relaxed, slumping back onto the bed. It blearily pulled the scarf back over its mouth and settled back down into deeper sleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The purple haze floated over Diya’s bed, slowly coalescing into a ball just a little smaller than the Banette’s head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-----</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diya opened its eyes sometime after noon to find another pair of eyes staring back from ten centimeters away. The eyes were bracketed by a body of transparent purple haze and set above a wide mouth with two tiny little fangs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diya blinked. The eyes blinked back. Then, slowly, they turned up at the edges as the mouth below spread into a broad happy grin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gastly!” it exclaimed.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Snom (Ice/Bug):<br/></p>
<p>Spinarak (Bug/Poison):<br/></p>
<p>Gastly (Ghost/Poison):<br/></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Map 2: Canopy Town</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Welcome to the end of the beginning!</p><p>I wrote all of this in a rush over a couple weeks so it's a bit less edited than my usual stuff, and I can't promise I'll be able to keep this pace or interest. But as I said in the foreword, this has got me <i>excited</i> to be writing again so hopefully there will be plenty more to come.</p><p>And that said, feedback on the story so far would be very appreciated. What worked for you, what you liked, what didn't work, if there were any inconsistencies in tone or character voice, etc. These first five chapters are a good snapshot of what story elements and types of character interactions will be present going forward, so knowing what does and doesn't work in these chapters will help me write the rest of the story better. And, of course, I want the beginning of the story to be as appealing as possible.</p><p>I hope some of you liked the story enough that you do want it to keep going, and if you do I hope I'll see you again soon!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Episode 6: A Resurrection</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm almost done with the next chapter too and will be posting that soon.</p><p>I originally meant to post both chapters together, but then grad student stuff interfered and there were a bunch of days where I had no time to write at all. I figured y'all had waited long enough though, so I'm just posting the chapter I have done and edited.</p><p>And remember, for those who don't know what certain pokemon look like or know them by different names than the English releases, images will always be at the end of each chapter.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Gastly has no true form. Most of its body is a transparent purple poisonous gas, with a small ghostly core believed to be the soul of one who died from poison. The core is surrounded by a semi-solid illusory body which appears as a sphere with a wide pink mouth with two visible fangs and eyes that seem to extend past its round body. The toxic gas surrounding the core can induce fainting and suffocation and produces a faint, sweet smell. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Its gaseous body will dwindle away when exposed to strong winds, so Gastlys huddle together in decent-sized groups under house eaves to avoid the wind. </em>
</p><p>-----</p><p>“Gastly!” the sentient cloud of poisonous gas chirped again.</p><p>“AAAAAHHHHH!” Diya responded.</p><p>“GAAAAAAAAA!” the Gastly screamed in response, recoiling to hang a meter over the bed. </p><p>“AAAmmpbl,” Diya’s scream choked off as it clamped its hands over its mouth. It was too late though. A rush of grey smoke had already leaked out of its mouth and dissolved. The room spun dizzily in Diya’s sight as the loss of a sliver of its soul hit it.</p><p>Or maybe that was just the poisonous gas Diya was almost certainly breathing in right now.</p><p>The Gastly had recoiled when Diya yelled, but when Diya’s head lolled back unsteadily it leaned in again. Hesitantly this time, but with wide curious eyes. “Gastly?” it murmured.</p><p>Diya retreated as best it could. It crawled out of bed at top speed, but with the room still swimming around it and unable to properly feel which way was down Diya had some trouble on the dismount. The Banette pitched off the bed and onto the carpeted floor face-first with a <b> <em>thump</em> </b>. </p><p>“Gastly?!” Now the Gastly sounded outright worried, which Diya would maybe be a little more touched by if the sound of its worried voice wasn’t also getting <em> closer </em>. </p><p>The Banette’s scarf had loosened sometime during the night so it reached up to fix it tighter and pull it over its nose. Unfortunately it also tried to stand at the same time and leftover sleepiness, soul loss, and probable poisoning combined to make it fail at both. Diya’s body went <b> <em>thump</em> </b> on the room’s floor once again.</p><p>“Gastly?!”</p><p>Diya scrambled into the corner of the room and pulled itself up into a sitting position, breathing hard against its will. If it had to, it could phantom step to get out of the room. The Gastly might be able to follow, but its poisonous gas would be less dangerous out in the open. Of course then Diya would be running around naked in public, but unwanted attention and uncomfortable questions were better than death by suffocation.</p><p>… suffocation which was notable <em> not </em> happening to Diya. In fact its vision was clearing up with every rapid breath it took to fuel its racing heart. </p><p>“Gassss?” the Gastly fretted. The floating cloud of death was watching Diya with worry and concern in its eyes, but no longer approaching. It floated over the edge of the bed, staring at Diya with two wide eyes. The distance wouldn’t save Diya from its poison gas though. The Banette was still in an enclosed space with the Gastly and … and not dead.</p><p>Diya had <em> been </em> in an enclosed space with it for who knew how long, with the poisonous pokemon floating bare centimeters from its face, and it wasn’t dead. Its heart was beating and everything. The Gastly hadn’t already killed Diya with its presence, nor did it seem to have any malicious intentions to do so.</p><p>In fact now that Diya’s thoughts were freer of the blur of sleep and sudden soul loss … it felt fine. It wasn’t feeling any of the symptoms the boy’s teachers had said accompanied Gastly poisoning. No headache, no nausea, no shortness of breath. And it was becoming <em> less </em> dizzy each second, not more.</p><p>Diya slowly levered itself into a standing position, using the wall for support. No dizziness. In fact it felt … energized? Hesitantly, careful of a bad reaction, it took a deep breath. </p><p>Whoa, Diya thought. The feeling wasn’t quite the rush of pulling grief directly from the source. But it was similar to the energy living around the boy’s house had passively provided, breathing in the grievances and hurts that saturated the hateful household’s air. Cautiously Diya pulled down its scarf to its chin and hissed in a quick breath through its mouth. That was definitely the barely-there rush of ambient grief tingling in its soul. The Banette could taste it on its tongue, satisfyingly familiar. </p><p>Wait. Familiar? Diya breathed in again, deeper this time. It <em> was </em> familiar grief. Pain, helplessness, fear, and resignation. All muted with a deep sense of relief which took the bite out of the negative emotions.</p><p>Diya stared at the Gastly, which stared worriedly back. A sneaking suspicion was forming in the Banette’s mind, pushing aside its worries of gas poisoning. To test its suspicions Diya closed its eyes to the physical world, stepped <em> up </em>, and opened its eyes again in the phantom world.</p><p>In the phantom world the room was filled with a thin cloud of black grief smoke. The kind of heavy weighty smoke Diya suspected might smother a living soul if it were dense enough. The kind which might cause headaches, shortness of breath, and eventual death as it choked the light out of a soul on a spiritual level. Diya stood straighter, fear falling off its shoulders. If Gastly ‘poison’ was actually soul smothering grief-smoke and not physical poison, Diya had nothing to fear from it. If anything the Banette was stronger for its presence.</p><p>But Diya wasn’t staring at the smoke. It was staring at the bright soul of a Snom burning like a candle over the bed. A soul whose dying ember Diya had consumed last night along with the last remnant of the Snom’s pain.</p><p>In its stunned amazement Diya lost its hold on the phantom world and fell back down into the physical world with a rush of displaced air. It stumbled and held out a hand to brace itself on the wall, but it never stopped staring at the Gastly. At the ghost which had the night before been a soul Diya had ushered to the other side of death.</p><p>“Gastly?” the spirit murmured again. And this time, without move!run!flee! adrenaline clouding its mind, Diya could feel the phantom mental touch that accompanied the Gastly’s call. It felt just like how Diya would have communicated with its siblings, exchanging feelings and experiences much the same way they’d consumed such things for sustenance. So Diya reached back out in turn just as it would have reached out to communicate with another Shuppet and-</p><p>
  <em> Death hunched over her with hunger in its eyes. Death burrowed into her flesh with searing agony. Death wrapped her in silk threads that sapped her strength. Her world was pain, searing burning pain. Terror filled her as she stared into the awful unblinking eyes of a Spinarak. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> She was going to die. The Snom knew that. There was nothing she could to save herself from the Death that had caught her. Pain and terror would be her only companions into the grave. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> But then the hungry Death fled. The searing Death was still eating her insides but suddenly it didn’t hurt. The soft weakening Death still bound her but it wasn’t such a helpless terror. Instead there was … peace. Quiet, gentle peace. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The Snom looked around with eyes unclouded by fear and found a quiet thing beneath her. It made no noise but she could see black smoke flowing into its mouth and somehow she knew that was her pain and her fear. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> She was a Snom. She expected to die in pain and alone. That was the fate of almost every Snom that ever lived, to be caught by web or fang or claw. She had been born with that fear driving her and grown up with Death’s certainty teaching her caution. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> But this Snom died as so few Snoms did. At peace. And not alone. </em>
</p><p>-Diya reeled under the staggering weight of <em> gratitude </em> pulsing through its link with the Gastly. And for a moment under the barely-there glow of its pink eyes, the once-Snom’s soul cast its light into the physical world. It blazed with the last thing she had known. A quiet burning certitude that pain was not inevitable and that death did not have to be born alone.</p><p>The world was blurry. The boy’s eyes Diya had inherited weren’t working properly. It raised its hand to rub them and blinked when its palm came away wet. Oh. It was crying. Of course. Diya slid down the wall until its butt hit the ground, blinking away more tears.</p><p>“Gastly?!” the ghost exclaimed. Concern and the desire to come closer pulsed from her, but she hesitated, clearly remembering how Diya had just fled from her.</p><p>Diya shook its head and waved the Gastly over, pushing acceptance and closeness at her as best it could. Using the phantom world to send impressions of feelings and hoping your fellow ghost picked up on them was far less precise than actual psychic communication, but the Banette hoped its meaning got through.</p><p>And evidently it did. The Gastly rushed across the room. Her barely substantial ‘body’ collided with Diya’s chest with a gentle <b> <em>paf</em> </b>, and her hazy purple form wrapped all the way around to the trainer’s back. She looked up at Diya with wide watery eyes, radiating worry and a desire to make Diya’s pain stop.</p><p>But Diya just shook its head again. It wasn’t sad or hurting. It was just … overwhelmed. It hadn’t realized just how <em> much </em>its actions last night had meant to the Snom. How important they had been to one tiny little prey animal. Her very soul even shown with it, a bedrock-deep conviction that pain was not something which had to be born alone. A conviction she’d learned from Diya’s actions. </p><p>Diya gently rubbed the semi-solid illusion making up the Gastly’s ‘head’, hugging her back as best it could. The ghost snuggled in, tightening her gaseous body as best she could in turn. And Diya sat there with her, slowly blinking away tears.</p><p>Diya spent long minutes doing nothing but breathing in and out with the Gastly. It breathed in the grief the other ghost now radiated as part of her being and it was … nice. It was lighter than Diya would have expected, tinged with peace and relief. It was still grief, of course. At its core the Gastly was fundamentally an imprint of the Snom’s death. But the death she carried was a soft and gentle one.</p><p>Eventually Diya peered down at the Gastly and tilted its head to the side. It couldn’t just keep calling her ‘the Ghastly’. Did she have a name? Diya reached out to her and-</p><p>
  <em> -Carefully, slowly, she scooted across a patch of nearly invisible ice on a tree branch, using her probing forelegs as much as her eyes to know where the ice was. One misstep and she could fall, but the Snom was skilled and knew what she was doing. The risk was a rare thrill rather than a danger and- </em>
</p><p>
  <em> -She threw herself across a patch of transparent ice covering a flat boulder. She skidded from one side to the other before flying off into the snow with a squeak. Gleefully she jumped back on the boulder and threw herself back the other way. Weeeeeeee- </em>
</p><p>
  <em> -The Snom examined herself in the reflection of a pond, staring in awed fascination at her ice shell’s reflection. It showed up as only a shimmer, a rippling not-quite-right distortion of her form. But she could still feel its heavy weight protecting her. She kept tilting her head back and forth, as if by finding the right angle the ice would suddenly look as solid as it felt.- </em>
</p><p>-Diya took a deep breath through its nose to center itself after the rush of sense impressions it had gotten from the Snom’s life. Her name was … black ice? The Banette pushed impressions from the boy’s life back at her. The feeling of slipping suddenly on the steps in the morning, carefully navigating an invisibly icy sidewalk, tracing wondering fingers over the invisible ice covering metal railings.</p><p>“Gas!” she confirmed, nodding against its chest.</p><p>Hmm, the trainer thought. ‘Black Ice’ was a little unwieldy as a name. Of course she didn’t know spoken language, wouldn’t know it was an awkward name in the boy’s native tongue. But aha, Diya had a solution. The boy had loved languages. He’d made a habit of collecting beautiful words wherever he’d found them. It was how he’d come to name Diya, after the small oil lamp fires its eyes had resembled as a Shuppet. And another such word came to mind now, a word for invisible ice. Diya just had to give it voice, so the Gastly could know its name.</p><p>The Banette opened its mouth just a sliver, taking in a deep gulp of the Gastly’s grief-fumes to steady itself. Alright. It had just spoken earlier -yelled in fact-  and it wasn’t dead. It could do it one more time. </p><p>It carefully breathed in again, holding the Gastly’s grief-fumes in its mouth, letting them mingle with its own soul-stuff. It gently cupped its hands under the Gastly’s barely-there body and lifted her up in front of its face. Her name was-</p><p>“Svartis,” Diya breathed out. A rush of dizziness hit it as grey smoke -a piece of its soul- flowed out of its mouth, but being prepared for the weakness it managed to stay upright and only swayed a little. The smoke flowed into Svartis’ body and mingled with her gaseous body, grey melding into purple. And then there she was, inside of Diya’s head! Her presence shone like a star in Diya’s mind. A star named <em> Svartis. </em></p><p>For her first act as a named being, Svartis manifested a wide pink tongue and licked a path right from Diya’s chin to its forehead. </p><p>A laugh almost burst out of the trainer’s mouth and ruined the solemn name-giving it was trying to accomplish. But Diya went with the flow and leaned forward to plant a big smooch on the top of Svartis’s body. </p><p>Svartis leapt up out of Diya’s hands and circuited the room twice before flying back into its chest at top speed. She hit with about as much force as a gently lobbed pillow, but with great enthusiasm. “Svartis!” she exclaimed. “Svartis, Svartis, Svartis!”</p><p>Diya rubbed Svartis’ semi-corporeal form some more, petting the newly named Gastly. <em> Its </em> new Gastly. Because there was no question about whether Svartis was ‘its’ pokemon. It could feel her in its mind, had followed that path of her joyous flight around the room with its phantom senses as much as its borrowed eyes. They were linked now, and Diya had no doubt that whatever came next they’d be facing it together.</p><p>… which just left one question. Where in the <em> world </em> had Svartis come from? Most Snoms killed by a Spinarak’s venom did not make the transition to a ghostly existence, or the world would be drowning in them. Diya reached out to Svartis through her presence in its mind, the process made easy and effortless by their bond, nothing like the uncontrollable avalanche of sensation it had experienced connecting with her earlier. </p><p>How was she here?</p><p>Memories of sensation flowed seamlessly into Diya’s mind. Being cradled in a warm safe place, somewhere deep, deep in place of burning shadows and hazy substance. Slowly finding and pulling together pieces of a new self, binding them to her soul. Hearing ethereal winds screaming outside the warm place and knowing that exposure to them would tear that sense of self from her soul, but knowing bone deep that she was safe from them. Growing big enough that she didn’t fit in that safe place anymore, coming bursting forth out of the Banette’s mouth. Peering down at the face of its m-</p><p><em> Midwife </em> , Diya thought as intensely as it could, interrupting to push the concept down their link. It had been a <em> midwife </em> for Svartis, helping her -however unwittingly- through the process of rebirthing herself as a Gastly.</p><p>Svartis stared quizzically at Diya. Was it sure it wasn’t her mo-</p><p><em> It was not </em>. Svartis has done a very good job birthing herself and Diya was glad to have kept her safe during the process, but every single fiber of the recently evolved Banette’s spirit and every neuron of the young boy’s brain it was using were in agreement on this. Diya was far too young to be a mother.</p><p>Svartis blinked at the Banette.</p><p>Diya fretted, abruptly worried it had hurt Svartis’ feelings. Was … was she okay with Diya being her midwife? It hadn’t hurt her feelings by insisting it wasn’t her mother, had it?</p><p>The Gastly buried her face against Diya’s chest again, giggling madly. No, no she wasn’t hurt. Her mother had laid a clutch of eggs under a mound of snow and then flown off never to see them again. She did not have any special attachment to motherhood or daughterhood and was fine with Diya being the midwife for her rebirth.</p><p>The young trainer breathed out a long sigh of relief. So long as it wasn’t unexpectedly a mother, it could deal with this. More than just deal with it in fact. This was … it felt precious. </p><p>Last night Diya had defeated that Spinarak and celebrated its first catch. But it wouldn’t be right to say that the Spinarak was its first pokemon. The new trainer hadn’t even run it through a pokecenter’s training computers yet. For all intents and purposes it just had a feral murder spider in a ball. And even once it was trained, Diya didn’t think it would have any particular attachment to that pokemon.</p><p>Svartis was different. It had meant something, that quiet moment in the forest with the dying Snom. She was a pokemon whom Diya would be happy to call its first companion.</p><p>Those feelings flowing down their bond prompted Svartis into more giddy circuits of the room. And honestly, Diya couldn’t say it didn’t want to do the same. It had a <em> companion. </em> A pokemon to share its journey with. It probably would have broken out into dance and followed her about the room if its feet weren’t still sore from last night’s hike.</p><p>Diya did get back to its feet and sit down on the bed though, smiling ear to ear as it watched Svartis fly around the room. If it was too sore to join in the excitement it might as well watch comfortably. And it was quite a sight. Very few Snoms lived long enough to evolve into the flight-capable Frosmoth, and Svartis seemed determined to revel in having gained the power of flight.</p><p>Very few Snoms ever found themselves in hotel rooms either, and Svartis seemed determined to explore that too. She flew every which way, exploring her new powers and her new space. What was under the bed? (Nothing.) What did the ceiling fan do? (It moved when she touched it!) What did the drawers do? (Nothing she could figure out.) How squishy was the bed? (Adequately.) Could she lift the pillows? (Just barely.) Could she fly while lifting the pillows? (Her flight was wobbly, but yes.)</p><p>Eventually she noticed the changing minutes of the hotel’s bedside alarm clock and spent some time poking and prodding the digital device, trying to prompt the numbers to change some more. Which prompted Diya to notice the time. 12:42 the clock said.</p><p>That was enough time to get ready for its late lunch with June at 14:00 but also not quite enough to tarry. Diya didn’t want to end up late for its meeting with the other trainer because it cut its timing close and got turned around in an unfamiliar city.</p><p>If it was going to get ready, it ought to start getting ready now. So Diya, groaning just a bit as it put weight on its feet, got up to go to the bathroom and get ready. It was going to invite Svartis to join it so she didn’t get lonely while it was cleaning up, but that didn’t end up being necessary. Diya opened the bathroom door, Svartis saw the new unexplored space, and that was all the invitation she needed.</p><p>Getting in the shower and washing up was an odd experience for the Banette, because of how surprisingly not odd it felt. It had never bathed before in its life, had never had a need to. But from the moment it stepped into the bathroom it might as well have been on autopilot. Thousands of hours of the boy’s muscle memory kicked in and -suddenly- it was showering.</p><p>Of course Svartis was fascinated by the ability to produce rain on command, and further fascinated by what happened when her semi-corporeal body interacted with the water. Which was mostly some very messy redirection of water and the portion of the water that made it through her coming out the other side snow-melt cold.</p><p>Some showering delays resulted because of this. </p><p>By the time Diya managed to regain control of the showerhead and secure a steady stream of hot water for itself, it was firmly reassured about its decision to start getting ready early. Drying off was fortunately less of an ordeal. Occupying Svartis with a towel of her own to play with did the trick, and the process was smoothly taken care of by the boy’s muscle memory with no interruptions.</p><p>The tricky part came when it was time to brush its teeth. Diya did find a small disposable toothbrush and some toothpaste in the bathroom, which was fortunate. But … </p><p>Diya stared into the mirror at its faintly glowing pink eyes and firmly shut mouth. It could <em> survive </em> opening its mouth. But it didn’t exactly <em> want </em> to open its mouth and expose its soul to the open air. It wasn’t a great experience and it still wasn’t sure what the effects of doing so repeatedly might be. For something as important as giving Svartis her name, of course Diya would risk it. But for something as mundane as brushing its teeth? That it would have to do multiple times a day for long minutes?</p><p>The Banette kept staring at itself in the mirror, hesitant. Eventually Svartis even noticed the conflict. Nervousness bled through their bond and she stopped playing with her towel. She floated over to rest on her trainer’s shoulder, joining it in staring at their reflections. “Gastly?” she murmured.</p><p>This was a thing Diya had to do. If it didn’t brush its teeth regularly they were going to rot and fall out and it would be awful. It had to do it.</p><p>…</p><p>Maybe it could just brush its teeth without opening its mouth? Yeah it would try that first.</p><p>It took a bit of finagling and a false start which ended up with toothpaste smeared all over its lips, but it did turn out to be possible to brush its teeth without Diya opening its mouth to the air. And once it had squeezed the toothbrush in past sealed lips, brushing was fairly easy. It struggled a bit with toothpaste foam overfilling its mouth and the whole ordeal was a bit messy by the end, but it worked! </p><p>When Diya was done it carefully extracted the toothbrush from its pressed-together lips and searched around under the sink for a cup. It filled it with water, drank steadily from the lip between tight lips, swished it around, and spat it out all without ever exposing its mouth to air. The operation was a success. Now its mouth felt clean and fresh and it didn’t have to worry about rotting teeth.</p><p>Its mouth also suddenly felt <em> parched </em>. Last night’s journey had not been without its toll on Diya’s adopted body. The Banette filled the cup again to gulp down water. Then again, and again, only pausing to breathe. After almost a full minute of slaking its thirst, Diya slumped against the bathroom counter. Stars and shadows it had needed that more than it had realized.</p><p>Diya’s stomach gurgled hollowly. And suddenly it was hungry too.</p><p>Well. It made sense. Diya’s new body had been through a lot last night. Thirty kilometers of rough terrain, two life or death fights, and all of that with no food and water would take a toll on a human. And then it had another life or death panic that morning. Now that the adrenaline was washing out of its system and Diya was taking care of its body’s basic needs, it made sense those needs would be asserting themselves.</p><p>Diya’s stomach gurgled again, sloshing in an uncomfortably empty way around the water the Banette had just drunk.</p><p>Okay, okay, it got the message. It might be spiritually self-sufficient now that it was a Banette, but its human body demanded its own physical fuel. In theory Diya thought it would probably be able to manipulate its body with the same ghostly puppeteering other Banettes used to move their doll bodies. Even if its human body ran out of fuel it wouldn’t be immobile, or truly <em> die </em> in the way a human would. But that didn’t mean it could keep all the body’s other functions running on spiritual powers alone.</p><p>From the boy’s education Diya knew that the brain’s neurons relied on chemical interaction chains which no phantom motive force could substitute for. Neurons used ATP molecules to produce electric charge concentrations. Making ATP involved a process that started by taking in O2 and ended by expelling CO2. That extra carbon molecule had to come from somewhere and that somewhere was food. And while Diya might be able to move its limbs with phantom forces, that didn’t mean Diya could conjure carbon from thin air.</p><p>If Diya wanted its new neurons to keep firing, if it wanted to keep thinking in the way a human did and not regress to the more limited understanding of the world it had had as a Shuppet, it needed food.</p><p>The ghost pokemon smiled to itself. Lucky for it then, that the bug trainer June had promised to treat it to lunch. That was one problem which had an easy solution.</p><p>… of course it would also have to figure out how to eat without opening its mouth. That was a problem which didn’t have such an easy solution. Diya chewed on its tongue, thinking that one over. Maybe the buffet place would have soups or smoothies it could drink like it had drunk the water? Were there other more filling foods it could eat without having to open its mouth too much?</p><p>It would just have to find out. And there was no time like the present.</p><p>Diya leaned out of the bathroom to check the clock. It would be early if it left now, but it might as well. Maybe June would get there early too. The Banette’s stomach gurgled again. And maybe it would get a headstart on that lunch even if she didn’t.</p><p>That decided, Diya waved for Svartis to follow it and started pulling on clothes. It didn’t have anywhere to leave clothes right now and it wasn’t sure what would happen if it tried to put clothes in a pokeball meant for pokemon, so it just put them all on. It could wear a different set of pants on the outside, wrap its fleece sweater around its waist, leave the inner plaid scarf untied around its shoulders, and that would hopefully look like a different set of clothes. And hopefully that many layers wouldn’t cause it to overheat in the daytime.</p><p>Diya peeked through the curtains and touched the window to check the temperature. The snow outside wasn’t melting and the glass was cold, very cold. That was good, wearing layers probably wouldn’t be a problem then.</p><p>Which just left the problem of transporting Svartis. First, and most importantly, could she be around humans safely at all?</p><p>The new trainer focused on Svartis, bringing its will and attention to her presence in its mind. The newborn Gastly paused in its idle exploration of the room and turned to face Diya. What did it want? She wondered. </p><p>Could Svartis stop emitting her phantom grief-smoke? Diya asked. Or pull it in closer to her somehow? Its phantomly communicated questions weren’t perfectly precise, more impressions than grammar, but it got the point across.</p><p>Svartis bobbed up and down. Yes, she could do that! She couldn’t stop emitting her smothering aura, but she thought she could choose where it was concentrated with just a little effort. </p><p>She demonstrated immediately, showing off her control. Diya couldn’t see the smoke directly while in the physical world but through their link it got a sense of how Svartis felt her own smoke. She concentrated it in a column between them, expanded it into a cone that covered a quarter of the room, then pulled it back into a column. Finally she whirled the column around herself into a spiral before pulling it into a tight ball contained wholly within her gaseous body.</p><p>See! Svartis preened. She had <em> excellent </em> control over it.</p><p>She did! Diya agreed. That was really cool how she’d controlled the spiritual poison like that. There were … well there <em> were </em> a few issues with it. The smoke had actually leaked everywhere when Svartis pulled it into a column or cone. It had concentrated in that area but not been fully removed from the rest of her surroundings. And the process had been kind of slow. A mild jog could probably outpace her ability to reorient that focused column of poison. </p><p>But when she had pulled her poison in tight within herself she’d pulled <em> all </em> of her poison in tight. Not a trace left in the surrounding air. Diya stepped over to the phantom world for a moment to double check. Yup! She could pull it in tightly enough that not a hint escaped to threaten anyone’s health. That was great! It meant Diya could safely bring her around living people who had souls that didn’t actively feed off of manifested negative emotions.</p><p>While this confirmed that Diya <em> could </em> bring her around humans though, there was still the question of if it <em> should </em>. On the plus side, most people’s reaction to seeing a Gastly probably wouldn’t be nearly as severe as Diya’s had been. Seeing a -presumably responsible and notably not dead- trainer walking along the open street with a Gastly wasn’t quite the same as waking up ten centimeters from a pokemon known for quietly suffocating creatures in their sleep.</p><p>But people still got nervous around dangerous pokemon. At least in Ledos Village they did. Back there it had been a Big Deal if someone was too casual letting their more dangerous pokemon wander around. The kind of big deal that got the Ranger to come down and give you a stern talking-to. Maybe it would be different in a town with a pokemon gym that trained people for combat encounters with wild pokemon, but Diya didn’t know that for sure. It was probably best if Svartis stayed out of sight for now.</p><p>Would she be okay going inside a pokeball? Diya wondered at her.</p><p>The Gastly thought about it for a moment before shaking her head. If she had to, Svartis guessed she would. But she didn’t want to. What she wanted was to see the world! She wanted to explore it and know it and be a part of it. This new gaseous body wasn’t nearly as vulnerable to predators and injury as her old body had been and that lack of threats meant <em> freedom! </em></p><p>Diya smiled in giddy sympathy at the excitement pouring down their link. Yeah. It knew the feeling.</p><p>In that case maybe Svartis could hide under Diya’s clothes? Her form was pretty malleable so-</p><p>Before Diya could even finish the thought its Gastly had rushed straight at its chest. As she did the gaseous pokemon let go of her semi-corporeal body, the black ball with eyes and a mouth that gave her form stability. She became pure gas, nothing but a barely visible shimmer of transparent purple, and poured herself into Diya’s clothes.</p><p>The end result looked like Diya was standing over a vent that was blowing up through its pant legs, but it worked. Hopefully the poofiness wouldn’t look too ridiculous with the layers it was wearing. Or if it did … Diya shrugged to itself. Well then it would look kind of ridiculous.</p><p>Before calling the setup satisfactory though, Diya did check to make sure Svartis could see alright. She had dissolved her eyes after all. Would she need to manifest new ones that were peeking out or-?</p><p>Nope. Svartis assured Diya that she could see just fine.</p><p>Diya blinked. She was under its clothes and had no eyes. That wasn’t a problem?</p><p>The concern only confused Svartis. Was there a reason it should be?</p><p>Two contradictory trains of thought pushed themselves through Diya’s mind at once. One, born of the boy’s neurons and experiences, insisted that yes eyes were very much necessary for vision. The other suddenly realized that the world now went dark for a moment every time it blinked, that was <em> new </em>, and what in the stars-</p><p>Diya’s stomach growled, derailing both trains of thought. </p><p>You know what, Diya thought to itself, questions about how ghostly and human vision worked could wait for later. If Svartis was comfortable with her situation that was good enough. For now food was more important. Diya looked around the hotel room. Was there anything else it needed to do before it could leave?</p><p>It was cleaned and clothed. Its new companion Svartis was stowed away. It patted its pockets for its three pokeballs, two empty and one with a Spinarak inside. It looked over the hotel room, emptied of its worldly possessions. Anything else? </p><p>Oh! The room was kind of messy. The bed was unmade, water had been splashed around the bathroom, and towels which had been stowed away were now laying about. The Banette frowned. It didn’t want to leave the room like this when it left. It didn’t know exactly how hotel cleaning staff did their work, but it didn’t want to either make more work for them or get them in trouble if it made it look like someone hadn’t done their job.</p><p>Its stomach gurgled again, but this was important. It still wasn’t sure what exactly the morality of stealing things it needed was, but it knew that unnecessarily making work for other people was rude. That was something the boy had felt very strongly about. Strongly enough so that guilt over being a burden had been a regular emotion for Diya to drain from him.</p><p>The Banette made the bed first. It couldn’t figure out how to fold the bedsheets as crisply and neatly as they’d been folded when it came in -it didn’t have the hundreds of hours of practice of a professional housekeeper- but it did its best. Then it dried and tidied up the bathroom, though that this left it with the question of what to do with all its wet towels. It couldn’t clean them, and probably shouldn’t just dry them and put them back.</p><p>What could it do with them? It probably shouldn’t leave them hanging in the room. Could it drop them off somewhere? </p><p>Diya stepped up into the phantom world to look around the pokecenter, giggling under its breath as it felt Svartis’ surprise and fascination at seeing the other world for the first time. The Banette’s glowing eyes searched through the insubstantial walls, parting their gauzy substance with an effort of will wherever it looked.</p><p>There! Over by the pool there was a hamper for wet towels. And to its surprise there were towels in it despite the cold. Maybe some trainers had been exercising cold-resistant water pokemon in the pool? Well whatever the reason, it could drop the towels off there and hopefully no one would realize or be too inconvenienced.</p><p>The trainer dropped back into the physical world to gather up the towels, again giggling at Svartis’ fascinated shock. A flood of interest and half-formed questions came flowing down their link and for every question Diya answered, two more took its place. Answering some of the questions was difficult through their limited link but Diya answered its pokemon as best it could. Curiosity was a good thing and if its pokemon -its very first pokemon!- wanted answers, it would give them to her.</p><p>Diya laughed giddily. It really had a pokemon. Not even a full day as a trainer and it already had a pokemon companion. A companion it felt close to. And not just physically. (Diya giggled some more at the pun). Svartis had hardly even been with Diya an hour, but Diya already felt like it knew her. And in a way it did. Just yesterday the Banette had been a living spirit just like her. It knew what it was like to be a ghost pokemon unbound to a physical form in a way few people ever would. </p><p>And it would use that familiarity to help her grow and thrive as best it could. It was responsible for her, after all. However unwittingly, it had helped bring Svartis into this world. It was up to Diya to make sure that world was good to her.</p><p>One it had gathered the towels, the trainer looked down at its puffed up clothes. Ready? It sent to its pokemon.</p><p>Ready! The reply came back.</p><p>Well then. Time to go see the world together. Holding an armful of wet towels, Diya pulled them both into the phantom world and walked out through the pokecenter’s walls.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Gastly (Ghost/Poison):<br/></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Episode 7: A Late Lunch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There's a number of background pokemon in this chapter, so just so you know there's lots of pokemon pictures in the end notes to check out.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Canopy Town was <em> amazing </em> in the daylight. Well, truth be told it was only a few times larger than Ledos Village so it wasn’t structurally that different and there weren’t that many people out in the streets during the middle of a weekday. But the people who were out had pokemon with them! Not just small pet pokemon, a Furret or a Pachirisu on someone’s shoulder. <em> Combat </em> pokemon.</p><p>There was a woman in a spiked leather jacket with a mohawk on the street corner, clearly waiting for someone. And she had a Wartortle sitting idly next to her on the curb! Out and about, the armored pokemon just free as you please. </p><p>In front of the pokemon center a man was sitting on a bench eating lunch and playing catch with his Sneasel. The man casually tossed a half-shredded rubber ball into the air at the same time as he took a bite out of his sandwich and the aggressive predator pokemon flashed across the ground at blinding speed. It leapt into the air as a flash of black and red, sinking its wickedly sharp claws into the rubber ball and destroying it a little bit more, before darting back to the man and demanding he throw it again.</p><p>Even as Diya looked around, a small group of people came out of the pokecenter’s lobby. One of them was clearly a gym employee, dressed in a full snow camouflage suit with a bright orange armband bearing the Canopy Gym’s shaded tree logo. She was leading what looked to be a group of freshly equipped novice trainers out on an expedition into the forest. And helping her lead them was a full fledged Abomasnow! Diya could feel the impacts of the massive yeti pokemon’s steps through the ground, carrying the promise of irresistible force and violence ready to be brought to bear.</p><p>Diya stared with a slack jaw as the Abomasnow passed it, in sync with Svartis’ own awed and somewhat nervous reaction. Neither of them had ever seen a Pokemon that powerful in person, in any of their forms or memories. Diya had certainly never seen a pokemon capable of serious violence free in the streets. This was the difference of a town with a pokemon gym in it and it took the young trainer’s breath away.</p><p>The Banette took its time walking the short distance to the buffet, the intensity of its wonder managing to override its hunger. It soaked in the daylight view of the town with curious eyes. Even the streets fascinated it. The road in front of the pokecenter was much wider than any street in Ledos Village. Probably for ease of access by cars, but why? What could they possibly be transporting back and forth so often that couldn’t be held in storage balls? Or maybe they often drove people to and from the pokecenter? But what for? Canopy Town wasn’t that large, a bike could get you from one end of town to the other in a few minutes.</p><p>And oh! It had missed it the night before, but the pokecenter’s roof had a landing pad for passenger-carrying flying pokemon. Diya wondered if that was a common sight in this town, Pidgeots and Staraptors ferrying people through the skies. </p><p>There was just so much to learn! Diya smiled to itself. And all the time in the world to learn it. Though admittedly not at this exact moment. It should be making its way to the -what had June said the buffet was called again?- The Mighty Meowth. Diya peered down the street to see if it could spot the restaurant, only to be surprised when it instead spotted June. She was early, already sitting on a bench outside the restaurant.</p><p>The bug trainer was reading a book with one hand and absentmindedly petting the scarf-wearing Blipbug in her lap with the other. She was still wearing the light green toque with the fluffy Venonat puffball on top and the overlarge green down jacket from the day before, though now they were paired with a pair of purple jeans. The Blipbug -Igor, Diya remembered his name was- was facing the Banette and he raised his head at Diya’s approach.</p><p>Diya waved enthusiastically at the bug pokemon.</p><p>Igor stared for an uncomfortably long moment -Diya wondered what the Blipbug was thinking- before finally reacting. Wriggling out from under June’s petting hand, he crawled around her body to take up a position on her back with his head peeking over her shoulder. From his vantage point he tapped her shoulder with one stubby foreleg.  </p><p>June had not looked up from her book when Igor left her lap. Instead she kept absentmindedly petting the air until Igor tapped her shoulder. Only then did she finally stir, setting the book aside and blinking rapidly at Igor’s absence in her lap. Igor patiently tapped her again and she finally looked up at him, and then followed his gaze down the street.</p><p>“Oh!” she exclaimed. “Hey, Diya! Over here!” She stood up from the bench and waved, slipping the book into her jacket with the other hand. Diya kept waving for a few seconds so she knew it had seen her, and then jogged the rest of the distance.</p><p>When it was close enough to slow to a walk Diya held out its hand to shake, but it was preempted by a sudden movement from June. The shorter trainer closed the remaining distance between them in a swift lunge and wrapped Diya in a big hug, her arms going around its chest. </p><p>Two things happened at once when she did this. She started to speak, “Hey kid, it’s good to see you. I was worried abou-”. And her sudden tight hug compressed Diya’s Gastly-inflated clothes, forcing Svartis out into the open, where she immediately manifested her semi-corporeal body to protect her form from the light wind in the street.</p><p>The Gastly sheepishly took form behind Diya’s head, unsure what to do about suddenly being forced out into the open. Through their bond the ghostly trainer could feel her manifest one clawed hand and wave awkwardly. Diya closed its eyes and winced. Hopefully June’s reaction to ‘sudden poisonous death pokemon in close proximity’ would be better than its had been.</p><p>Igor tilted his head, wide compound eyes staring at the new pokemon. He waved back at Svartis with a stubby foreleg.</p><p>His trainer gasped, rearing back from Diya, exclaiming, “Oh blessed gods-”</p><p>Diya winced. Oh no this was going to be bad.</p><p>“-your Gastly is so tiny! Diya how is your Gastly so tiny, they’re supposed to be at least twice that size aren’t they? Oh my oh my, give me a moment.” The smaller trainer pushed Diya away and immediately started patting down her jacket, exclaiming in triumph when she found her pokedex. “Got it!”</p><p>June held up the red handheld computer and pointed the transparent blue dome on its end at Svartis. She pressed a button, watched a stream of information scroll down its screen, and gasped. “What?! What?! No way.” She scanned Svartis again. “No <em> way </em>.”</p><p>Diya blinked, a little shocked and very bemused. It glanced over at Igor who seemed just as fascinated by Svartis as his trainer, if less vocal about it. Diya looked back to Svartis herself, who just exchanged glances and mutual feelings of consternation with Diya.</p><p>“Diya,” June said in a very serious voice, “did you know your Gastly is the smallest of its kind on record? By a <em> huge </em> margin too. Also, wait, how is this news to the pokedex? Have you never scanned them or registered their pokeball before? Are they a new catch? Wait did you find a <em> Gastly </em> on the Ledos-Canopy trail last night? How?!”</p><p>The Banette blinked some more, caught off guard by the deluge of questions. It pointed a finger at its throat, grinning ruefully under its scarf. No speaking for it, remember?</p><p>“Oh! Right! Sorry I almost forgot. Just give me a hot second…” June fiddled with her pokedex. A moment later she turned it around and handed it to Diya. “There you go! This will make communicating much easier!”</p><p>The Banette took the pokedex on reflex, unsure what June wanted it to do with the device. It looked down at the pokedex and- oh! That was brilliant! Or … actually maybe it was really obvious. On the screen was a document writing app, with the text size blown up large enough to see from a couple meters away.</p><p>“Haha, yeah I’m sorry I should have thought of this last night, can’t imagine I didn’t think of it then. I was futzing around on my phone earlier looking for a sign language translator - you do sign right? No? Huh.” June made a noise of puzzlement when Diya shook its head. “Well anyway, it suddenly hit me while I was typing, looking for one, that uhhhh, well, instead of scanning your signing -which I guess you don’t do anyway- and converting it to text, you could just type the text out directly!”</p><p>The pokedex suddenly felt warm and heavy in Diya’s hands, the feeling spread up its arms and into its chest. &lt;Thank you&gt; it typed out, showing the dex’s screen to June. &lt;That was very thoughtful.&gt;</p><p>“Yeah, uh, why don’t you have one of your own? If you don’t mind me asking.”</p><p>The Banette thought fast. The truth would probably work well enough. &lt;The muteness is new. *Not* your Wurmple. Other reasons.&gt; It showed the screen and waited for June’s nod of comprehension - her Venonat fluff ball bounced as she nodded. &lt;I was planning to get a dex of my own in Canopy Town.&gt; Which was also true, even if it hadn’t realized the device’s importance for communication.</p><p>“Ahhhhh, I’m sorry to hear that,” June said. “If you don’t mind if I ask-”</p><p>Whatever she was going to say was cut off by the rumble of Diya’s stomach, followed by June’s stomach rumbling as well. There was a moment of silence, in which Igor took the opportunity to tap June’s shoulder and stare pointedly at The Mighty Meowth. Both of the trainers broke down laughing at the interruption, June with a full-bodied belly laugh and Diya tittering behind closed lips. “Haha, sorry,” June said, “my moms always said I’d talk myself to death if Igor wasn’t around to remind me to eat. Let’s go in. Oh and remember, it’s my treat.”</p><p>Diya nodded its enthusiastic agreement, gesturing and mentally signalling for Svartis to flow back into its clothes. Igor and its trainer both watched the process and the subsequent clothes-floofening with undisguised fascination.</p><p>June shook her head wryly as she opened the door to The Mighty Meowth. “I have so many questions for you now that you can actually answer them.”</p><p>Underneath its clothes Diya could feel a similar curiosity radiating from its Gastly. Who was this? What was that bug? She’d never seen a bug like it before. Why did it stare so much? </p><p>Diya giggled as it followed June inside. It was bold of June to assume it and Svartis didn’t have just as many questions for her, now that it could ask them of her. </p><p>Any questions it might have had fled its mind as it walked inside the buffet though. A rush of smells hit the Banette like a wave. It was the first time it had smelled food in the flesh and the combined smells of all the buffet’s food was … overwhelming. Chowders, fried potatoes, piles of steaming scrambled eggs, noodles simmering in broth, fluffy flatbread and rolls, fried rice, noodles, dumplings, fluffy stuffed buns, pidgey and piloswine meat drenched in thick sauces, chopped fruits. The combined weight of all of it was beyond the Banette’s ability to process. </p><p>If pressed to say what it felt like though … it felt like warmth, and safety. It felt like a home should.</p><p>Diya didn’t know what its face looked like in that moment, but it must have had some kind of expression on its face because June looked up at it and smiled. “Yeah there’s a reason I suggested this place. It’s your first day away from home, right?”</p><p>She waited for a hesitant nod from Diya.<br/>
<br/>
“Right. Well they have a lot of good comfort food here. Helps with the homesickness. They have filling comfort food too, and I figure after that trek last night you must be more starving than I am. Go on, get some food. I’ll pay for us and grab a booth over there by the windows.”</p><p>And Diya wasted no time doing exactly that. It rushed to the back of the restaurant where rows of counters held trays of food over baths of hot water to keep them warm. It beelined for the chowder first, the food it thought it could most easily slurp down without opening its mouth. It grabbed a bowl, filled it with some sort of barely identifiably but delicious smelling seafood chowder and-</p><p>It was about to rush back over to the booth June had picked out for them when some of the dumplings caught its eye. A surge of memories hit it, from when the boy had been invited over to the neighbor’s house for dinner. </p><p>The neighbors were a large family and always made extra for dinner. The boy would gorge himself on the dumplings they made whenever he was invited over, and he always left their home fat and happy long after the sun set. And Diya remembered those same dinners too, from its own perspective. Because every evening the boy came home fed like that, the Shuppet had gone hungry with no grief of the boy’s for it to feed on. That had never been a bad thing though. It hadn’t been able to imagine a better reason to go hungry.</p><p>Diya stared at the dumplings with an ache in its chest. It … really wanted to eat those. </p><p>The Banette piled a few smaller potstickers on a plate. They were bite-sized, maybe it’d be able to squeeze them in past its lips. Or something. </p><p>Stars above, it was going to cry if it couldn’t figure out a way to eat them, wasn’t it?</p><p>June raised an eyebrow when Diya settled into their booth. “That’s all you’re getting? Well, just remember you can go back for seconds if you want. Now, I’m gonna go get my own food. Watch Igor for me will you? He’ll go for the food if I bring him over there.” The bug trainer muttered under her breath, “Learned that one the hard way.”</p><p>June set her pokemon down on the table and got up to leave. She made it two steps before turning around. “Oh and watch your food around him. He’s faster than he looks.” The bug trainer glared at her pokemon. “Stay. Do not eat Diya’s food,” she said slowly, enunciating each word clearly, “I am going to feed you.”</p><p>Igor stared impassively at June until she walked off. Once she was gone he rotated his head to stare Diya in the eyes. Then, slowly, his gaze dropped to Diya’s chowder and potstickers.</p><p>The ghost trainer slowly reached an arm around the food, shielding the plate and bowl and pulling them closer.</p><p>“Bllliiiiiiiiiiiiihhhkkhhkhkhkh,” Igor hissed. His mandibles wriggled.</p><p>If Diya was going to figure out how to eat those potstickers, it had better do so before June was back to see its probably clumsy experimentation. And before Igor decided to take them for himself.</p><p>The first attempt to just push a potsticker through loosely closed lips was partially successful. It only lost a wisp of soul-stuff around the edges of the potsticker -mostly the crispy inflexible part where the dough had been pinched together- but that was still enough to be visible. And even with Diya only losing the slightest sliver with each dumpling it would be feeling pretty faint after eating a whole plate. </p><p>So long as it had sacrificed a tiny sliver of soul to squeeze the potsticker in though, Diya might as well eat it. The Banette smiled as it chewed down on the potsticker. That -it swallowed past a lump in its throat- that was home tasted like.</p><p>Well, it certainly wasn’t going to stop trying after that. Besides, even if that wasn’t a viable method for eating potstickers it might be able to squeeze through some other foods that way. Maybe some of the buffet’s chopped fruit. The strawberries had looked malleable enough. </p><p>Its next attempt was a clear failure. Attempting to suck in air while rushing a potsticker into its mouth just resulted in a pained choking fit and a worried Svartis. And it still lost bits of its soul anyway. It needed to stop doing that, it could <em> not </em> be healthy in the long term.</p><p>Igor stared some more at Diya with its unblinking compound eyes. “Bliiiiiiiiihhkkhhkh,” he hissed. He clearly had opinions about dumplings going to someone who couldn’t even eat them right. Mostly of the ‘I should have those dumplings instead’ variety.</p><p>Svartis hissed back at the Blipbug from the collar of Diya’s shirt. She did a remarkable job of imitating him too, letting out a long thin, “Gliiiiiiiiiiiiihhhhhhh”. Diya pet the poofy shoulders of its shirt. That was a good Gastly, protecting their food.</p><p>Alright. One more try. Maybe if it covered its mouth while eating that would do the trick. Diya cupped a bite-sized dumpling in its hand. It held its hand to its face, covering it from chin to nose and cheek to cheek while pressing the dumpling to its mouth. Then, with its mouth covered, it carefully opened its lips and grabbed the dumpling, pulling it inside. Once the dumpling was secured it sucked in a quick breath through its fingers to suck in any soul that had escaped.</p><p>Success! The dumpling was in its mouth and its soul was entirely in its body. It had won! Diya chewed on its hard-won dumpling, basking in the warmth of good food and victory.</p><p>Once Diya was done chewing it registered a mental nudge from Svartis. A nudge filled with … regret and failure? Diya blinked rapidly and looked down at its poofed up clothes. What was wrong?</p><p>“Svaaaarrrtis,” the Gastly said sadly.</p><p>Diya blinked some more. What? What had happe-</p><p>Where had the rest of its dumplings gone? </p><p>Igor stood on the other end of the table, unblinking eyes still fixed on Diya and Svartis. He was wiping his mandibles down with tiny arm-like appendages inside his mouth. </p><p>There was a very rude word Diya wanted to say and it was a terrible shame it couldn’t. Before it could figure out the ethics of setting its friend’s pokemon on fire just a little bit though, June came back. She had two plates, one piled high with rice and noodles and strips of sauce-soaked meat and the other piled with chopped fruit.</p><p>“Here Igor,” she said, petting the pokemon’s head fondly, “this is for being such a good boy and waiting.” She placed the fruit plate in front of him. “And this is for me. And <em> not </em> you.” She settled into the booth with the other plate in front of herself.</p><p>The Banette glared impotently at the dastardly bug being rewarded for his misdeeds before it remembered the pokedex and its text app. There was something it could do about this! </p><p>&lt;Igor took my dumplings&gt; it typed out, turning the screen to June.</p><p>She gasped when she saw the screen. “Igor!” June cried. “No, bad! That was bad!” She grabbed the Blipbug in one hand and the plate of fruit in the other, separating them. Igor struggled against his trainer, scrabbling at the smooth surface of the table in a futile effort to reach the fruit. “You’re on time-out. You couldn’t wait to eat, so now you’re going to take a minute before you can eat the fruit.”</p><p>“I’m sorry about that,” she apologized, turning to face Diya. She kept one hand on Igor to fend off his angry attempts to regain his rightful fruit. “I swear I feed him enough. It’s just that I got him when I was little and, well, good luck trying to explain to little-me why she shouldn’t feed her precious pet pokemon from her own plate at the dinner table.” She sighed deeply. “Now he’s convinced that if it’s on a plate it’s for him.”</p><p>The Banette tried its best to ignore the part of itself that was squealing over how cute that mental image of little-June feeding her larval Blipbug was. It was failing pretty badly though, so to avoid giving in and forgiving the little bug it turned its attention to Svartis. It was okay, it pushed at her. She couldn’t have prevented the bad mean bug from stealing their food. And he was very bad for taking the dumplings.</p><p>It was fine, Svartis sent back smugly. She wasn’t upset at all. Also Diya should take a look at its plate.</p><p>Diya looked down at its dumpling-less plate. A plate which now held a good fifth of the Blipbug’s fruit. As it watched a hazy purple ripple surrounded one of Igor’s melon slices and lifted it over to Diya’s plate. A wide evil smile spread over the Banette’s face. Yesssss. Yes this was good. Svartis had done well. </p><p>A bit of melon slipped between Diya’s pressed lips to the sound of Igor’s horrified chittering complaints and it was music to its ears. </p><p>The two trainers put conversation on hold and tucked into their meals, eventually joined by a released and aggrieved Igor. Diya found that lifting its bowl of chowder to its lips and drinking from the rim worked just as well as it had with water. And using a fork to break the fruit up into long thin pieces it could slip through its lips did the trick too. It was getting a hang of this eating thing.</p><p>Both of the trainers inhaled their meals in minutes, and went back for seconds.</p><p>This time, less occupied by the demanding bite of hunger, Diya took closer stock of the trays of food. What June had said the other night, that they’d be coming in just after the lunch rush, was readily apparent. Most of the trays were less than half full, and some were outright empty. There was enough food left for the two diners though, and they stocked their plates again.</p><p>The experiment of choice this time was noodles in a bowl of broth and a giant steamed bun full of meat -a bao- bigger than both of Diya’s fists. Along with some more chowder just in case Diya had trouble eating those. It also got two smaller plates of fruit. One for itself and one to put between Igor and the rest of its food. Hopefully that would suffice as a peace offering, and keep the little devil away from Diya’s nourishment.</p><p>The noodles were easy enough to eat. Pressing them to its mouth with chopsticks and slurping them down worked. It was a little messy, but didn’t earn more than a carefully muffled laugh from June at its first less than perfect attempts. And eating the bao was perfectly safe, if frustratingly slow. It just had to press the bun to its lips, take a little careful nibble, and make sure not to get greedy.</p><p>After their seconds the two trainers' stomachs were mostly settled and they returned to their conversation. Diya was still nibbling on the last of its bao, but it could type with its free hand even with its mouth occupied.</p><p>“So,” June sighed, leaning back contendely, “you have a Gastly now. A Gastly which wasn’t around you last night and which has never been inside a pokeball, according to the dex scan. How in the world did that happen?”</p><p>&lt;First, her name is Svartis.&gt; Diya replied. It mentally nudged Svartis to say hello. </p><p>She manifested a wide mouth just under her trainer’s scarf. “Svarrrrtiissssss!” she introduced herself.</p><p>June’s eyes bugged out and she coughed. “What?!” she exclaimed. “It talks?!”</p><p>&lt;She&gt; Diya typed, pausing to emphasize the pronoun, &lt;can imitate words. She doesn’t understand speech. Don’t know if Gastlys can learn to speak / depends on the creature they came from.&gt; </p><p>Diya frowned at the pokedex as it typed. It was wonderful to be able to talk with June using it, but the Banette wasn’t very fast with it. And it felt like it was coming off as stilted, because of how it had to contract sentences to get around that.</p><p>If it was stilted June didn’t seem to pay it any mind though. “Ohhh. Well, hello then Svartis. That’s Svart-<em> ice </em>,” she said, emphasizing the last syllable, “right?” She smiled at Diya’s answering nod. “So is her speech like a Murkrow then? Mimicry and a little understanding of auditory signalling?”</p><p>&lt;Maybe.&gt; Diya shrugged. Honestly it had no idea just how intelligent Svartis was. It knew Svartis had a sense of self and felt emotions intensely, but not much more than that. She might be only as intelligent as a Snom, or much smarter, or maybe right now she was as smart as a Snom but she had the potential to grow smarter. For that matter Diya wasn’t sure exactly how smart Snoms were supposed to be in the first place.</p><p>“Cool. So, how did you get Svartis then? I let you out of my sight for a few hours and you come back with one of the hardest to find pokemon in the world, <em> without </em> using one of those pokeballs I gave you. How in the world did you catch her?”</p><p>&lt;I didn’t.&gt; Diya replied simply. &lt;I made her.&gt;</p><p>The other trainer tilted her head. “Huh?”</p><p>&lt;I found a Snom being eaten by a Spinarak.&gt; Diya took a moment to pat and soothe Svartis as its memories of the encounter bled down their link. &lt;Scared the Spinarak off. She was dying of venom. I helped her make the transition to the other side.&gt;</p><p>June’s jaw slackened as the implications sunk in. When she finally found her words, questions poured out of her mouth. “Wait, what? How?! You turned a Snom into a Gastly? On purpose?”</p><p>&lt;A Snom dying of poison, yes.&gt;</p><p>“How does tha- oh. Ohhh. Whoa so the stories about Gastly being formed from people, or errr, pokemon too I guess, who died from poison, those are true?”</p><p>Diya nodded. It continued petting Svartis, running its hand over a poofed-up sleeve. The ghost wasn’t vocally complaining about the impressions the conversation was raising in Diya’s head. But she was still and quiet under Diya’s clothes and it wanted to make sure she didn’t feel alone.</p><p>“So…” June leaned back, raising her eyes to the ceiling as she thought. “So why isn’t the forest filled with Gastlys of dead Snom then? This can’t be something that’s common. Or even rare. Canopy Town’s gym didn’t have Gastly on its local pokemon register and if even one in a hundred thousand Spinarak kills made a Gastly there would be enough of them to notice. You said you … helped her -Svartis you called her, right?- make the transition? What does that mean?”</p><p>Diya tapped the side of its head with a finger.</p><p>“Eugh,” June let out a groan that was equal parts envious and annoyed. “Of course. Psychic. How could I forget?” She paused. “Oh. Psychic. Huhhhh.” She turned to Igor. “I wonder if you’ll be able to do that when you’re older and have all your evolution’s psychic powers. Wouldn’t that be interesting?”</p><p>Diya very carefully nodded and smiled innocently and did not write anything about how impossible that probably was. It thought it did a good job of not looking suspicious. It was a Banette after all. In a way it was puppetting its body as much as it was living through it, so its poker face should be great. The way Igor was staring at it without blinking did make Diya feel a little less confident about that, but it bravely pushed on.</p><p>&lt;I helped Svartis become a Gastly&gt; glossing right over the unfortunate wakeup call and how unintentional her resurrection had been &lt;and guess what else? You’ll like this.&gt;</p><p>“Oh?” June’s curiosity was clear on her face. “What?”</p><p>&lt;I caught the Spinarak which envenomed her.&gt;</p><p>“What! No way! You caught a Spinarak too?! Augh, who am I kidding, of course you did.”</p><p>&lt;No such luck last night?&gt;</p><p>The bug trainer shook her head. “No. Got close plenty of times but whenever I got close enough for a good throw the Spinaraks would get spooked and run off. Didn’t seem to matter how quiet I tried to be, they knew I was there. And I couldn’t outrun them in the snow. How’d you catch yours?”</p><p>&lt;Sorry to hear that. And I waited. It eventually came back for its meal. It tried to fight me and lost.&gt;</p><p>“Yikes. Good thing you had Svartis at that point. That could have gone a lot worse if it was just you being attacked. A-” June hesitated for a moment, worry creasing her face, “-a lot worse.”</p><p>&lt;Svartis wasn’t awake yet. Just&gt; Diya showed June the screen and tapped the side of its head.</p><p>“Oh. Right.” June sagged and sighed. “Of course, why was I worried. You’re magic and can light things on fire with your mind.”</p><p>The Banette saw the opportunity for a good joke and seized it. It gave Svartis directions and started typing. &lt;There there. No need to worry.&gt; it wrote. It turned the screen to face June as a barely visible hand of purple gas coalesced over her shoulder and patted her gently.</p><p>“Thanks Diya,” she said, reaching up to clasp the hand patting her shoulder. “But that’s-”</p><p>The other trainer looked down, where there was no arm reaching across the table. Then to her shoulder. Svartis patted her again.</p><p>“Ha ha,” she said dryly. “That’s-” she shook her head. “Okay, to be entirely serious, that’s really impressive. I was looking up psychic humans last night and not many can do what you do. Like, I know every psychic measures themself against Leader Sabrina. And sure, compared to her every other psychic is a Magikarp trying to swim with the Gyarados. But you really do have some power. That explosion last night was a lot for a psychic. And you’ve got control too apparently,” she said while looking at her shoulder. “And…”</p><p>June paused to chew on what she was going to say, struggling with what she was going to say next. It took her a few long seconds to get the words out. “If you’re going to be journeying alone, and with so little, that kind of power is important. I’m glad you’re as strong as you are. I’d be really worried for you otherwise, kid.”</p><p>Both of the trainers were quiet. Diya smiled, touched, but didn’t know what to say. And June seemed to still be chewing over something.</p><p>&lt;About that Spin-&gt; “Speaking of-” Diya started to type at the same time June started to speak.</p><p>“Oh sorry-” Diya shook its head and gestured for June to go first. </p><p>Both trainers chuckled, before June finally ended the stalemate. “You first Diya. I know I talk a mile a minute, only fair if you get a word in edgewise.”</p><p>Diya took its time to type the sentences out right. It wanted to give this the weight it deserved. &lt;About the Spinarak. It’s the first pokemon I properly caught, with a pokeball. And that’s important. But Svartis was killed by this Spinarak. And I helped her at the end, to not feel pain, but it was still a bad way to go. I don’t think it would be right to put them on the same team.&gt;</p><p>The ghost trainer turned the pokedex to June and let her read that before continuing. She stayed quiet and let it take its time to finish its thoughts. </p><p>&lt;I don’t feel like it’s right to just release the Spinarak though. It’s my responsibility now. And I’m not sure it would be safe to release in the wild anyway, now that it’s experienced humans as a hostile threat. Would you be willing to take it, instead? I caught it, it’s mine to care for now, I know, but I think it would be better off with you and your team.&gt;</p><p>The bug trainer’s expression as she read Diya’s words went from serious to fond to … determined? Diya couldn’t quite read the final expression her face settled on.</p><p>“You don’t have a pokedex yourself yet, right?” she asked.</p><p>&lt;No. Why?&gt;</p><p>“Do you have a traveller’s card? Or a currency card? Something that can store electronic pokedos?” </p><p>&lt;No.&gt;</p><p>“Okay. I’m from another island chain so I’ve only got electronic money on me. But I’ll buy you a cheap dex at the pokecenter then, one with some storage space for electronic currency, and then I’ll <em> pay </em> you for the Spinarak. I’m thinking-”</p><p>&lt;What? No! You don’t-&gt;</p><p>“-three hundred pokedos? That sounds about right to me.”</p><p>&lt;!!! That is too much!&gt;</p><p>“Diya,” June said sharply, “that Spinarak is <em> valuable </em> to me. To my family back home. It represents quite a bit of money as a farm animal. I would be taking advantage of you if I didn’t pay for it. And pay you its true worth at that.”</p><p>She kept talking, barrelling over any possible dissent, “Besides, after you give it to me I’m probably going to go back out into the forest and keep trying to find more. And I’ll be using the information <em> you </em> just gave me. Knowing that, for the right bait, a hungry Spinarak will eventually return to brave an encounter with a human is extremely helpful. Any Spinarak I’ll catch after this will likely be because of your help, so really I’m paying you for those catches as well.”</p><p>That ... sounded reasonable. And Diya couldn’t think of a reason to keep refusing. Even if something in the boy’s neurons was squirming and turning itself into knots, afraid to ask for a reward and sure that something about this must be too good to be true. </p><p>“And,” the older trainer continued, her voice softening, “you’re new. And young. And, meaning no disrespect, you weren’t exactly kitted out with the full catalogue from Journeyer’s Monthly when we met. Take the money and get some nice equipment for the beginning of your journey. And take the opportunity to treat yourself with something, something you wouldn’t get yourself without a windfall like this.” She reached across the table to take one of Diya’s hands, which had convulsively clenched into a fist. “You did good, you’re doing me a favor, and you deserve it.”</p><p>June had taken its left hand, which was its dominant hand. But Diya didn’t want to let go. With its off hand Diya awkwardly typed out, &lt;Okay. Thank you.&gt;</p><p>“Good,” June said warmly, squeezing its hand. “Now, uh, have you had time to run its pokeball through safety and training programs at the pokecenter?”</p><p>&lt;Not yet.&gt;</p><p>“Oh yikes, glad I asked before I took it out. Well we’ll do that at the same time as I get you your pokedex. Sound good?”</p><p>Diya nodded and hummed its agreement. If some part of its brain was still reluctant about this, it wasn’t getting its way so Diya didn’t let it show.</p><p>“Now, uhh, the thing I wanted to ask you about. Do you, how to put this, do you have any set plans for your journey? Any commitments you need to meet at Canopy Gym or a set schedule for townhopping?”</p><p>The Banette shook its head.</p><p>“Good, good. Cus there’s an old friend of mine I wanted to introduce you to. His name’s Bashak. I’m gonna be out doing midnight forest runs for Spinaraks for the next few days. So I won’t be available much during the day. Honestly I’m going back to sleep after this, gonna see if I can’t rest some more before tonight. And so long as I won’t be available I figured you’d want a friend you could hang out with during the day. You know, someone you could attend Gym classes or go exploring with.”</p><p>That did sound nice. Really nice, actually. Diya squeezed June’s hand to signal for her to go on.</p><p>“Yeah so if you’re cool with it, I figured I’d introduce you and Bashak. I think you’ll get along pretty well actually.” June snickered. “He’s not the biggest talker either.”</p><p>Diya gave June an unimpressed look. It awkwardly typed out, &lt;Is he mute too?&gt;</p><p>“No, no, he can talk. He’s got a lovely singing voice actually. You’ll definitely get a chance to hear it too, he hums a lot while he works. He’s just of the opinion that if one word will do, one word will do.”</p><p>That was finally enough reason for Diya to take its hand back so it could type more complex sentences. &lt;Oh? Did you steal his lifelong allotment of words when you were kids?&gt;</p><p>“Hah! You know, you’re joking, but yes I actually did. Our parents say that I got into the habit of talking for him when we were little, responding to questions aimed at him and asking for stuff in his stead. They thought it was harmless and cute but next thing they knew, my family had a kid who talked for two and his family had a kid who barely talked for one. Though that said, they do claim they got the better deal out of the bargain.”</p><p>Stars and shadows, Diya thought, that explained so much about June.</p><p>“But yeah, do you want that introduction?” </p><p>&lt;Of course! I’d love to meet him!&gt; The Banette grinned widely. Its master plan to make friends on its journey was already coming to fruition and it wasn’t even having to do anything. June’s friend was just becoming its friend by osmosis! Oh, was this how friendship worked? Would Diya just passively acquire its friends’ friends until it was topped up on friendship? The Banette giggled. Truly friendship was the gift that kept on giving.</p><p>Its giggling triggered a pained look on June’s face though. “Just-” she started to say. She chewed on the inside of her cheek for a moment, “Look I’m not saying you <em> can’t </em> giggle creepily around Bashak, because yeah you’re a mute psychic trainer with a ghost pokemon, it comes with the territory. I get it, I really do. You’ve got a solid aesthetic going for you kid. But like … could you wait at least fifteen minutes before your first creepy giggle around him? Just fifteen minutes! I want you to make a good first impression.”</p><p>Well now. Diya just couldn’t pass up an opportunity like that. Just as it had asked Svartis to pat June on the shoulder earlier, it asked Svartis for help again. Diya started giggling harder while its pokemon’s own laughter started up in stereo. “Gahahahahahahahaha!” the ghost pokemon cackled. “Hehehehehehehehehe,” Diya giggled behind closed lips. Their combined laughter was discordant and asynchronous, as if two different out of time voices were coming from the same throat.</p><p>June closed her eyes and sighed heavily. “You’re lucky you’re such a cute kid.”</p><p>-----</p><p>The two trainers went back for thirds before leaving the buffet, but eventually it was time to go. Diya needed time to go shopping before the pokecenter’s stores closed if it wanted to spend the money June was giving it before dark, and June needed to go back to sleep in preparation for another midnight expedition. </p><p>Just as they were leaving though, June stopped right outside the doorway, which almost caused Diya to run into the shorter trainer. “Hey, uh, I just had a thought,” she said. “Probably a stupid one but I really should ask. Uh, is your Gastly safe to be indoors? Around people? I mean clearly we’re okay, but I wanted to make sure - don’t they emit a poison gas or something? Is there any possibility of long-term effects from small doses?”</p><p>The sudden question, coming only <em> after </em> she’d spent a good hour eating and talking around Svartis indoors, launched Diya into a full blown laughing fit. Svartis eagerly joined in as it caught the shape of Diya’s thoughts. </p><p>June sighed. “Dumb question?”</p><p>The ghost trainer shook its head. &lt;No, good question&gt; it typed, &lt;just funny you took an hour to ask. You even scanned her when you met! Didn’t your pokedex say ghost/poison?&gt;</p><p>“Look she was all tiny and small and new and I had a <em> lot </em> of questions, okay?”</p><p>&lt;Questions more important than “Will I die around her?”&gt;</p><p>June let out another deeply aggrieved sigh. “She is <em> very </em> tiny for a Gastly. Which, trust me, I have all kinds of theories about that I’ll want to run by you later. It was distracting.”</p><p>&lt;Well, no worries. It’s not poison. It’s smoke in the phantom world. Smothers souls. Not a real gas, so she can control its spread. She keeps it contained.&gt;</p><p>Diya turned the pokedex so June could read it. Its arm started to get a little uncomfortable as she stared at it. And kept staring at it.</p><p>“That third sentence makes it sound like you can physically see the phantom world.”</p><p>&lt;Yes.&gt;</p><p>“The hypothetical phantom world.”</p><p>Diya showed June the same &lt;Yes.&gt; again.</p><p>“The hypothetical phantom world in which souls can be seen. Souls which are … smothered … by Svartis’ smoke.”</p><p>That got Diya to tilt its head. Huh. Did humans not know about the phantom world? Or know about souls? No, they definitely did, it had gotten the spoken phrase ‘phantom world’ from the boy’s mind. And the boy definitely knew souls were a thing. But the boy had only known of the phantom world as a story and never seen a soul in person. To him the phantom world had been something he found in children’s books and ghost stories, and his mental picture of souls not much more concretely imagined.</p><p>Huh. Did other humans not know of this any more precisely than the boy had? &lt;Yes&gt; Diya typed to June, &lt;the actual phantom world. I’ve been there.&gt;</p><p>With a very deliberate effort June closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay. You know what? We can talk about all this later. Much later. Last night was a very long night, I still need some more sleep, and using psychic powers to perform necromancy on dying pokemon was already a lot to take in. And we still need to get you a pokedex so I can pay you for that Spinarak. So you can upend my understanding of the afterlife tomorrow. Or the day after. Sometime that isn’t right now.” She sighed deeply. “Svartis is safe to be around though?”</p><p>Diya nodded. &lt;Absolutely.&gt;</p><p>“Okay. Good. All I need to know right now. Come on, let’s go back to the pokecenter, get you that dex.”</p><p>The Banette nodded eagerly and followed after its friend. It was looking forward to getting its own pokedex to type with, even if it still felt a bit uncomfortable about how much June was paying it for the Spinarak. Maybe it could even get a model designed to be typed on with only one hand. That would be so convenient. </p><p>Before Diya let itself get too wrapped up in its daydreams of one-handed keyboards designed for lefties though, it did have one thing to do. It needed to thank Svartis for keeping her grief smoke so tightly under wraps the whole meal. Focusing on their bond, Diya made sure to push its appreciation for her hard work and discipline towards her.</p><p>It got guilty discomfort back in response.</p><p>… she had kept her grief smoke pulled in close, hadn’t she? <em> Hadn’t she? </em></p><p> Svartis assured Diya that she would have absolutely said something if anyone had been in danger-</p><p>She hadn’t managed to keep her spiritual poison to herself had she? Oh stars no Diya was going to have to tell June that they had poisoned her and her Blipbug’s souls. How bad was it?</p><p>It wasn’t her fault! Exerting control over her grief smoke for that long was exhausting! But it hadn’t been a problem anyway! Whenever she let her grief smoke slip out while she was wrapped around Diya, the Banette had just breathed it right in! She might not have managed to keep control over it the whole time, but none had ended up leaking out!</p><p>Svartis let out the empathic equivalent of a pitiful sniffle. She wasn’t bad. No one had gotten hurt. And she really would have said something if Diya hadn’t been sucking in all the excess grief. She promised.</p><p>… and now Diya felt like a jerk. Svartis was still just a baby in multiple ways, even younger than it was. She’d done her best and no harm had come when that hadn’t been enough. </p><p>The ghost trainer apologized, sending remorse to Svartis. It had been wrong of it to imply she would have let its friend get hurt rather than alerting it. In the future though, things like a loss of control should definitely be brought to her trainer's attention as soon as possible. Even if they were lucky enough that it wasn’t hurting anyone.</p><p>Svartis sent back another mental sniffle. It was okay?</p><p>It was. And it was sorry for reacting like it had. She would tell it anything like that happened again right, even if Svartis didn’t think it was important?</p><p>Hesitant happiness welled up in the Gastly as she sent back assurances that yes, she definitely would.</p><p>Well then, there were no problems at all. And as part of its apology and as thanks for Svartis agreeing to that, it would get her a treat with the money June was paying it.</p><p>The sentient cloud of ghostly grief grinned. Its understanding of the whole transaction between Diya and June was hazy but the money … that was the stuff it was getting for getting rid of the Spinarak? The treat would be acquired because of that stuff?</p><p>Yes. Yes it would.</p><p>It was with the utmost satisfaction that Svartis informed Diya that all was good in the world.</p><p>Diya smiled and petted one of its poofed up sleeves. So long as Svartis was happy and no one was poisoned, Diya was happy too.</p><p>Now it just had to figure out what qualified as a treat for Gastlys.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Furret (Normal):<br/></p><p>Pachirisu (Electric):<br/></p><p>Wartortle (Water):<br/></p><p>Sneasel (Dark/Ice):<br/></p><p>Abomasnow (Grass/Ice):<br/></p><p>Pidgeot (Normal/Flying):<br/></p><p>Staraptor (Normal/Flying):<br/></p><p>Venonat (Bug/Poison):<br/></p><p>Blipbug (Bug):<br/></p><p>Orbeetle (Bug/Psychic):<br/>[The powerful psychic final evolution of Blipbug]<br/></p><p>Gastly (Ghost/Poison):<br/></p><p>Author's Note:</p><p>I wish I'd been able to wrap this up earlier, but work has been a living nightmare this past week. I recently changed PhD advisors to get away from an absent advisor who expected work without giving any advice, support, education, or even a clear description of projects to enable that to happen. Jumped from the frying pan into the fire it seems. </p><p>Long story short, new advisor seems hypothetically okay, but he assigned me and a fellow PhD student to be taught under a different professor. And that professor is, I say this without a trace of exaggeration, a cruel sadist. Like, he refused to teach us, assigned us an impossible "prove yourself" task, falsely implied to us we were going to be fired for days because we couldn't do it, and then spent a meeting mocking and deriding us for not knowing stuff like "oh if you'd just skipped forward 100+ pages in my textbook beyond where the problem you were supposed to solve was, made this abstract connection between [high level physics concepts], and noticed that's equivalent to this formula, you could have solved step 4 out of 17 of this basic simple problem you're idiots for not understanding."</p><p>TL;DR: Life's been ... very bad. Writing this story is a spark of joy in a life otherwise dictated by the whims of monstrous people so I'm going to keep doing it, but just know that in the near future I'll be dealing with unreasonable time constraints and the emotional toll of dealing with a monstrous person with unquestioned control over my life.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Episode 8: Everyone Loves Piplups</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Pictures of pokemon mentioned in this chapter are in the end notes, as usual.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Apricorns are an unusual tough-skinned fruit native to the Johto region. They possess an internal pocket of folded space common among some types of pokemon -particularly Water types- but rarely seen in the plant kingdom. This ‘bigger on the inside’ effect is used to pack a great deal of water and nutrition in a small space, which enables the extremely rapid growth of seeds inside the Apricorn.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Specialists can hollow out Apricorns and modify them to allow them to function as pokeballs and storage balls, holding creatures and objects much larger than their apparent size. Before the invention of modern pokeballs these fascinating fruits were the standard method for capturing pokemon. Though the modern pokeball is considered superior to older Apricorn balls, the process used to create the modern pokeball is in fact based on Apricorns and some trainers still prefer to use Apricorns to this day.</em>
</p><p>-----</p><p>Diya followed June up to the Pokecenter counter. It felt a little odd about coming here in broad daylight after having snuck into the Pokecenter, but it tried to ignore that feeling. It had needed to sneak in and that was that. A young teen showing up on foot in the middle of the night would have raised questions and it needed people to <em>not</em> ask to speak with its parents.</p><p>“Hey Claire!” June called out as they entered the Pokecenter’s lobby.</p><p>A middle-age woman at the desk in the back of the lobby looked up from her work. “June!” she called back. “How nice to see you. Who’s your new friend?”</p><p>June glanced up at Diya and then back at Claire. “This is Diya. They’re a new trainer, just got into town this morning so I’m showing them around. First things first though, they’re mute and they type to talk which is a bit of a problem cus they left their tablet behind on accident. They’re using my dex right now, but would you mind helping to set them up with a dex of their own?”</p><p>Diya shot June a slightly relieved smile as she glossed over the more awkward parts of Diya’s story. June seemed to accept the odd hour of Diya’s arrival and the fact it had arrived without a way to communicate without question, but the less people it tested that with the better.  The Banette walked up to the counter and smiled, typing into June’s pokedex. &lt;Hello Claire! I’m Diya. And yes, I could use a pokedex, thank you.&gt;</p><p>Claire smiled when Diya turned the pokedex to face her. “Oh I can help you with that dear, no worries. You’d be surprised just how many kiddos start their journeys without getting a pokedex beforehand. I’ve got a whole cabinet right here.” She rummaged under her desk, pulling out rectangular packages with different models of red pokedex on the front. “You said you’re a new trainer right?”</p><p>The Banette nodded.</p><p>“Well then you can get one of the free models of course,” Claire said with a sweet smile, tapping four of the packages, “but if you’re going to be using your pokedex for typing a lot … hmm. What’s your budget, Diya dear?”</p><p>Diya glanced back at June with an uncertain expression on its face. The other trainer stepped in confidently, taking over, “I’ll be paying for Diya, Claire, don’t worry. It’s just easier until they’ve got their dex and are hooked up to their financial accounts. And a few extra bells and whistles will be fine, I think. A touch-and-swipe keyboard obviously, and maybe a larger screen?” She looked at Diya for confirmation, who nodded.</p><p>The woman helping them hummed her agreement and nodded. “Of course, of course. You should also consider getting a good battery though. If you’ll be using it often and it’s so important for you to be able to communicate, you wouldn’t want it going dark on you.”</p><p>&lt;That makes sense. What would that cost?&gt;</p><p>“Oh not that much at all dear. This one-” she touched a package which showed a pokedex with a large sleek case and a recessed blue scanning dome, “-is just twenty pokedos more than the free cutoff for new trainers. And I can switch out a better battery for you for just another fifteen.”</p><p>&lt;That sounds good.&gt; Diya typed as quickly as it could. June had a <em>look</em> in her eyes, like she might be one of those people who bartered and haggled and exhaustively went over every single aspect of their purchase to get the perfect fit, and Diya didn’t want her to waste an hour getting it the perfect pokedex. Diya was more than happy getting a pokedex that was good enough. If it could type easily, show people text easily, and the dex wouldn’t run out of charge, that was enough for it.</p><p>It thanked Claire and June, and then gave June her pokedex back so she could pay. It still felt a little bit uncomfortable about June giving it so much money, but maybe it could just … help her catch more pokemon in the future? To make up for it? Yeah that sounded like a good plan. They could even make it a friend thing, catching pokemon together!</p><p>June took Diya over to a table in the corner of the lobby and helped it unpack and set up its new pokedex. It had never done this before as a Shuppet obviously and the boy had never had any personal electronics either, so it was a totally new experience for Diya. June’s help was very much needed and appreciated. Which Diya gladly told her with its new pokedex as soon as it was set up.</p><p>&lt;Thank you June!&gt; The Banette walked around the table to give its friend a hug. It hugged her carefully this time, making sure Svartis didn’t get squished out of her hiding place.</p><p>June enthusiastically hugged Diya back. “Aww, of course Diya. No problem.” Then she yawned. “Well, not gonna lie. Maybe a little bit of a problem, I really should be getting back to sleep. Worth it though, I really am glad to have helped. Here, just give me your pokedex and that Spinarak ball. I’ll send the money to your dex, take the Spinarak over to the counter for training, and then I’ll go back to my room and crash. Oh, and we’ve gotta set up your meeting with Bashak tomorrow, that too.”</p><p>Diya handed June its new pokedex and the Spinarak’s pokeball, noting when it got the pokedex back that the internal balance said three hundred pokedos and not the two hundred and sixty five June should have given it taking the pokedex’s cost into account. </p><p>It didn’t bother trying to argue about it with June. It knew it would lose. And besides, it felt … warm. Its heart ached in a good way when it saw the extra money and it didn’t want to disrupt that feeling arguing about it.</p><p>It followed June over to the pokecenter’s counter after that, where she handed the Spinarak over to Claire. “Hey Claire, just one last thing. I’ve got a new Spinarak-” “You finally caught one, how lovely dear!” “-well, Diya here caught it and was kind enough to trade it to me. Would you mind putting it through some training cycles?”</p><p>“Of course!” Claire said with a smile on her face. “And oh, Diya you’re a new trainer, have you ever seen the virtual training process before?” She waited for Diya to shake its head before continuing. “Would you like to?” She chuckled at the very enthusiastic nod that got. “I thought so.”</p><p>“First things first,” Claire continued, “June do you have a custom training program? And a name for this lovely little Spinarak, of course?”</p><p>“Yes I do, its name will be Skare and just let me find my training program on my pokedex. Oh and would you mind adding on some extra cycles of human desensitization? I’m a little worried this one may be hostile to people and I don’t want it to bite anyone.”</p><p>“I can do that dear, of course.” Claire took June’s pokedex and slid it into a device on her desk which looked like a disk reader. She took the Spinarak’s pokeball as well and placed it in what was -as far as Diya could tell- a very high tech egg carton on her desk, partially filled with a handful of other pokeballs. She spent a few minutes typing away at her computer, setting up the process.</p><p>The process was clearly second nature to Claire though and she didn’t need to pay much attention to it. Instead she kept up a steady stream of chatter with the trainers as she typed. “I love the Piplup scarf dear, are they a favorite of yours?”</p><p>&lt;A little bit, yeah.&gt; Diya struggled a bit with the unfamiliar swipe-to-type interface of its new pokedex, but already it could tell this would be an improvement. &lt;I just think they’re cute.&gt;</p><p>“You’re not the only one, not at all. The gift shop has an absolute treasure trove of Piplup merchandise if you want, you should take a look later. I’m sure you’ll find something you like.”</p><p>&lt;Really?&gt;</p><p>“I saw it earlier,” June piped in. “You should check it out if you like them. It’s pretty impressive, especially for an island with no native Piplups.” She said the last bit with a wry lilt to her voice.</p><p>“Eh, we’re home to an ice gym dear. People expect Piplups. Even if they’re technically classified as Water pokemon, they’re what comes to mind when people think of cute cold-weather pokemon. And the merchandise does sell, so they’re not going away any time soon. Ah, there we are!” Claire exclaimed, lifting her hands from her keyboard. “All set up. Want to take a look?”</p><p>Diya nodded enthusiastically, and June leaned in as well.</p><p>Claire turned her computer screen around to show what was going on inside the Spinarak’s pokeball. The scene was a simple one, a snowy forest and a Spinarak hanging onto a tree. What was shown on the screen clearly wasn’t real though. The whole scene was blurry as if in a dream, with no defining details to be seen on anything but the Spinarak.</p><p>“These programs always start with some basic desensitization,” Claire told them. She pressed a button on her keyboard. “Just watch.”</p><p>A humanoid figure appeared at the edge of the monitor. It didn’t have any clear details, just the blurry suggestion of a face and clothes swimming in and out of focus. It walked along the edge of the scene, keeping its distance from the Spinarak. It looked over to the Spinarak a few times, but never approached. Less than a minute later it had walked off the screen.</p><p>“Now we give the Spinarak some time to rest,” Claire told them. “It make not look agitated, but a close encounter with a large creature like a human can actually be very stressful for a small stealth oriented pokemon like a Spinarak. The training program reads its vitals to see how affected it was by the brush with a human and gives it time to calm down if it’s feeling anxious or aggressive.” </p><p>Claire tapped another key and the scene suddenly blurred. Trees whipped back and forth in a fast-forwarded wind and the Spinarak jumped from place to place as it switched positions on the tree in sped-up time. A few seconds later -and who knew how much time that was for the Spinarak- the scene jolted abruptly back to normal speed as another blurry human appeared at the edge of the screen.</p><p>“Sorry dears, I know it’s not the most action-packed at the beginning-”</p><p>&lt;No no no!&gt; Diya exclaimed. &lt;This is really cool. The program helping the Spinarak to be less afraid of humans, right?&gt;</p><p>The older woman beamed. “Exactly! As the program continues the human will get closer and closer to the Spinarak. Eventually it will start leaving treats, hanging around in the Spinarak’s space, even touching it. And the program has all kinds of contingencies depending on how the Spinarak reacts to that. If it attacks the human its attacks will do nothing and the program will give it a sense of hunger afterward. Not real hunger, but something like the kind of hunger you feel in a dream. It’ll be as if it tried to bite steel and failed a hunt because of it. And if it approaches the human in a positive way without attacking, it gets virtual treats.”</p><p>June jumped in, “Yeah and it goes a lot further than this of course. Training it to be cool with crowds, busy cities, people being excited, people getting hurt, pokemon battle situations, all kinds of stuff. I’ve got a whole extra sequence in there training it to be calm around other lots of other bug pokemon for long periods and around spinning and weaving equipment.”</p><p>“Mhm,” Claire nodded. “Sensible for a farm girl like yourself. After that of course there’s the exciting stuff I know you kiddos are really interested in. Teaching it to respond to its name and basic commands, how to fight, all that fun stuff. You’ll probably have to wait a bit for that though dears. Bugs are slow to train and even at full speed the program probably won’t reach that point until tomorrow.”</p><p>“And speaking of tomorrow,” June said, “I ought to get going. Got a busy night tonight and I <em>really</em> do need to get some more sleep. Diya, I texted Bashak, he’s going to be catching Swinubs in the forest tomorrow and says you’re welcome to come with and help. He’ll be getting started bright and early though, at the crack of dawn, so make sure you get your sleep tonight.”</p><p>&lt;Cool, thanks! Where should I meet him?&gt;</p><p>“Here, give me your pokedex for a second-” June pulled up the map function on Diya’s pokedex and highlighted a location in the forest on the edge of town, typing in a few directions to go with it. “Bashak isn’t staying in the pokecenter, he’s camping out on the edge of town. If you meet him at his camp just before dawn that’d be great.”</p><p>&lt;Thanks June! I look forward to meeting him. How will I recognize him though?&gt;</p><p>That drew a laugh from June. “Hah. You won’t be able to miss him. Bashak stands out. He looks like he walked straight out of some documentary about transhumants.”</p><p>&lt;Transhumans?&gt; The Banette asked, perplexed. &lt;The people who really like advanced prosthetics?&gt;</p><p>“Pffft. Nono, transhuman<em>t</em>s,” June said, stressing the last t. “It’s a type of herder. His family are halfway between nomads and more static farmers like my family. They settle in my home town during the winter and go up into the mountains with their herds in the summer. He’ll be easy to spot. Handmade wool clothes, handmade wool tent, and even odds whether he’s spinning wool thread at any given second. Seriously, you can’t miss him. Now I <em>really</em> need to go to sleep, so if there’s nothing else…”</p><p>&lt;Nothing else, you sleep well June! And thank you again, so much!&gt; Diya stepped forward to give June another big hug.</p><p>“Awww. Thanks Diya. It’s really been my pleasure though. Oh and Claire, one last thing, would you mind setting Diya up with a room and showing them where to buy some gear?”</p><p>“Of course! Sleep well dear!” Claire and Diya both waved June goodbye as she walked up the stairs to the pokecenters bedrooms. Claire turned to Diya once she’d left. “So, what gear do you need Diya?”</p><p>What did it need? &lt;Umm, everything?&gt;</p><p>Claire put a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh, but not an unkind one. “I’m sorry dear, I promise I’m not laughing at you. I’m only laughing because you’re not the first trainer I’ve seen to set off from home a little unprepared. It’s much more common than you’d think. Hmmm,” she looked up and down, giving the young trainer a once-over. “First things first, clothes. I take it you’re not used to the climate?”</p><p>It was, but it could see how its sneakers, layered clothes, and the lack of a proper jacket would give that impression and it didn’t try to correct her. &lt;Yes I need new clothes.&gt;</p><p>“Mhm. Let’s see, you’ll also want pokeballs, storage balls, potions, trail food, <em>water</em>, plenty of water containers dear, camping gear,” she listed off items on her fingers, “and the camping gear includes sleeping equipment, fire starters and fuel, cooking equipment, water purifiers-”</p><p>The Banette, who was feeling more unprepared by the second, held up its hands to slow her down. Three hundred pokedos had felt like a lot when June pushed it on Diya, but with each item Claire listed it felt a bit more worried that maybe three hundred pokedos wasn’t going to be enough. &lt;Let’s start with essentials,&gt; it asked, &lt;things I’ll need around Canopy Town for the next few days.&gt;</p><p>Claire stifled another laugh. “I’m sorry Diya, that was probably a bit overwhelming wasn’t it? Come with me, I’ll show you around the center’s stores so you know where everything is and then you can take your time figuring out what you need.” She put up a sign on her desk saying she was on break. “How about clothes first? Some good winter boots to start, at least.”</p><p>Diya nodded enthusiastically. &lt;That would be great. And thank you again for your help.&gt;</p><p>“Of course dear. It’s why I’m here.”</p><p>The very first thing Diya bought was a pair of lovely comfortable boots. Its current sneakers weren’t exactly appropriate for the weather, and were kind of worn down and growing too small to boot. But <em>these</em> boots were perfect. They were a nice forest green and laced up past Diya’s ankles. Diya thought they looked good. But more importantly they were warm and comfy and roomy enough to grow into and a few experimental jumps up and down had Diya convinced they’d have just the right give once it broke them in. </p><p>Finding clothes was a bit harder. Checking the prices told Diya it could easily eat up all of June’s money buying a full wardrobe if it let itself get carried away. What it needed to get was a few cheap sets of inner layer clothes it could wash regularly and then one <em>good</em>outer layer it could wear over the rest. And the roomier the better, so Svartis could shelter from the wind inside it without trouble.</p><p>It looked over and tried on dozens of long jackets, trying to find something good. And some of them were good and maybe worth buying. But then it found <em>it</em>. And suddenly Diya didn’t have to settle for good because it had found something that was perfect. Tucked away in the back of a clearance section, marked down and down and down with clearance tags dating back almost a year, was a Mismaigus costume. </p><p>The label didn’t <em>say</em> it was a Mismagius costume, simply calling it a paired hat and wool cloak. But Diya couldn’t imagine what else it was meant to be. The cloak was a dark purple with a lighter purple trim, and the hat was in the same colors and of a style which could only be described as a witch’s hat. The Banette ran its hands over the cloak wonderingly, marveling at how soft and tightly woven the wool was. It even had pockets on the inside. How had anyone not bought this?! It was <em>perfect</em>. </p><p>The Banette rushed into the changing room to try on its Mismagius outfit. It fit! It was a little long, almost brushing the floor, but Diya bet a silk farmer like June would have a sewing kit it could borrow to take in the hem. </p><p>Come on, Diya beckoned Svartis giddily, come under this and tell me if it works for you. </p><p>Svartis flowed under the cloak, marveling at how much room there was. The Gastly pushed on the edges of the cloak and the sleeves from the inside. She giggled as they fluttered, pawing at them with her gaseous body like a kitten might paw at curtains. This is fun! she exclaimed.</p><p>Diya got a glimpse of itself in the changing room mirror as she did that. Oh! It thought. Do that again, do that again! In the mirror Diya’s dark purple cloak billowed and rustled as if in a phantom breeze. The Banette giggled with delight. Again! it prompted, Again! It sent Svartis a mental impression of what it was seeing too, prompting her to laugh as well.</p><p>This was the best. It couldn’t have hoped for anything better than this. It thought back to what June had told it, that creepy giggling came with the territory of being a mute psychic trainer with a ghost pokemon. Well, it couldn’t wait to see what her reaction to this was, because a ghost cloak fluttering in a nonexistent breeze fit with that aesthetic <em>even better</em>. And the hat was amazing too! As a Shuppet Diya had always been a little envious of how Misdreavuses got hats when they evolved, but now it had a big cool hat of its own!</p><p>The Banette didn’t wait to finish the rest of its purchases. It rushed to buy the cloak and hat, taking them off only long enough to buy them and wriggling back into them the moment it could. It had a <em>theme</em> now and it intended to play into it as much as possible. </p><p>Its subsequent excitement fueled the purchase of … maybe a few more scarfs than it should have bought. But the Banette justified them to itself as necessary fashion accessories. It’s mouth did need to be covered. And if it was going to be wearing the same cloak and hat every day, having different scarves it could wear to change its appearance a bit each day was important. That way people would be less likely to ask questions about why it didn’t have a full wardrobe.</p><p>… it had drawn the line at getting itself a second Piplup scarf, surely that was enough self-restraint?</p><p>Diya needed a storage ball for all its new clothes after that, so it went to check out the camping supplies. It bought a small box with a few sliding drawers to keep its personal items in and a storage ball to keep the box in. Storage balls had difficulty storing things which they couldn’t register as a single contiguous object, so containers like the box were necessary to store multiple items in them.</p><p>After that it got a sleeping bag, a shelter tarp, canteens, and the other camping basics it needed. It had to skimp on some gear to save money and would be relying heavily on its powers to conjure fire and cut wood -shatter it, to be honest- without tools. But Diya was confident it would manage alright. The camping gear got shoved into the sleeping bag and the sleeping bag went into another storage ball.</p><p>Finally it picked up a dozen basic pokeballs at a generous young trainer’s discount, several spray bottles of healing potion, and a small tin of frostbite salve in case of any run-ins with ice pokemon.</p><p>Diya slipped the purchases into its cloak’s many pockets, taking stock of its inventory as it did. It had everything it needed to catch pokemon. It was outfitted like a proper trainer now. The young trainer smiled giddily. Stars above, it was actually doing this.</p><p>The Banette did an impromptu spin in the store, giggling as its purple cloak flared out and it felt the weight of the pokeballs lining its pockets shift about. It was a real trainer now! It had pokeballs and potions and it could camp out in the wild searching for pokemon. And it hadn’t had to steal any of it! It had earned this by capturing the Spinarak for June. </p><p>And yes, June had almost certainly overpaid and Diya would have to try to pay her back. But it could do this. It could capture pokemon and sell the ones which didn’t fit its team to other trainers or to pokecenters, and make enough money to keep itself on its feet. This wasn’t just a dream the boy had held onto in desperate moments anymore, this was a life Diya was living.</p><p>It <em>could</em>do this.</p><p>Diya checked its remaining funds. It had some seventy pokedos left. If it took advantage of the pokecenter’s free accommodations and ate and slept here, and bought cheap trail food to eat while searching for pokemon, that was enough to last it a good while. It could probably afford to use some of what it had left to get some of the more advanced equipment. The basic equipment it had bought barely scratched the surface of what it could buy after all. The pokecenter stocked so much more: speciality pokeballs, combat potions, pokemon repellents and attractors, field guides, special training modules-</p><p>And it probably should get some of those. Maybe a lock-on pokeball to catch flying types and a chill-resistant pokeball in case it stumbled on a Frosmoth. Those would be useful and make it a better trainer. But … </p><p>There was an item in the pokecenter’s gift shop it had spotted earlier, when Claire had been talking about the center’s Piplup merchandise. And ... June had told Diya to not just buy equipment with the money. She’d told it to also buy something nice for itself. The new Mismagius cloak and hat didn’t count no matter how much it loved them, and the same went for its new scarves. Those were still necessary winter clothing it needed to have, and finding good fits for itself wasn’t the same thing as buying itself a gift.</p><p>The boy whose journey Diya had inherited would have gotten the specialty pokeballs. Diya knew that. The journey would have been the most important thing to him, and being a good trainer the point of the journey. He would have denied himself the little pleasures so he could be the best he could. After all, he’d already spent his whole childhood learning how to do without.</p><p>Diya didn’t buy the specialty pokeballs.</p><p>Because June had the right idea. There was more to life than being a perfect trainer. There was no point in reaching for a goal it would be happy to achieve if it sacrificed happiness to get there.</p><p>So Diya walked into the gift shop and bought a giant meter-tall stuffed Piplup. It cost it just over half its remaining funds and put any thought of specialty pokeballs out of its budget. But the Piplup was soft. And squishy. And when Diya hugged the huge stuffed pokemon its chest filled with warmth.</p><p>Later than evening Diya fell asleep wrapped around the stuffed Piplup. All four of the young trainer’s limbs were wrapped tight around the penguin pokemon and it had arranged the Piplup’s flippers so they hugged it back. Svartis slept on the pillow next to Diya’s head, her gaseous body close enough to ruffle her young trainer’s hair as they slept.</p><p>Diya smiled in its sleep.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Fun fact: I actually have a meter-tall stuffed penguin I got for $40 (USD) when I was a kid and it's lasted over a decade with only minor wear (the scarf it came with disintegrated in months, but the rest has lasted almost intact). I got it in a Costco and no, I do not know why Costco of all places was selling a bunch of shockingly cheap but well made giant stuffed penguins. Being able to hold it at night got me through some pretty rough times as a kid, so it gets a cameo in this story as a giant stuffed Piplup where it can be a source of comfort for Diya as well.</p><p>Piplup (Water):<br/></p><p>Spinarak (Bug/Poison):<br/></p><p>Mimagius (Ghost):<br/></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Episode 9: Pokemon Centers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> Pokemon Centers, often abbreviated as Pokecenters, are found in most towns and cities of the Pokemon world; every major city or town holds a Pokemon Center. This is to accommodate those Trainers in need and serve as a resting spot. Pokemon Centers are often popular gathering spots for local and traveling trainers. Each Pokemon Center has at least one highly trained staff member available at all times. These Pokemon Center employees are often well regarded in their communities. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Pokemon Centers provide several critically important services to trainers free of charge. These include virtual pokemon training, virtual storage and transfer of pokemon, and healing for both pokemon and trainers. They also serve as a hub for the sale of pokemon and travel related goods. Many essential goods like pokeballs and pokedexes are sold at Pokemon Centers and these goods are often subsidized so they can be sold at a reduced cost. </em>
</p><p>-----</p><p>(Earlier that evening, before Diya went to sleep)</p><p>Claire was typing away on her computer, focused on her work, when Diya walked up to the desk. She seemed preoccupied though, so Diya waited for her to reach a stopping point. Also it couldn’t exactly call her name to get her attention and shoving a pokedex in front of her face seemed rude. So it waited.</p><p>And waited. If it poked her <em> now </em> after waiting so long it would probably be more awkward. What if she had already noticed Diya but her work was just really important so she couldn’t look away until it was done? Then it would be extra rude and impatient to poke her to get her attention.</p><p>The uncomfortableness was edging towards critical mass when Claire finally glanced up and blessedly resolved Diya’s anxiety for it. “Oh! Hello Diya dear, I didn’t see... oh my look at <em> you </em>.” </p><p>Claire immediately pushed her chair back and walked around the desk, coming to stand eye to eye with the Banette. She looked Diya up and down, taking in its new Mismagius cloak and hat. She nodded approvingly as she looked over Diya’s outfit. “That <em> fits </em> you dear. Especially with the glowing pink eyes. I meant to ask earlier, is that a body modification or-?”</p><p>&lt;It’s a psychic thing.&gt; Diya told her. &lt;I’m psychic.&gt;</p><p>“Ohhhhh. That is <em> fascinating. </em> Looks good on you too, contrasts with your darker skin in a really interesting way. Oh wait but then- hmmm.” Claire cocked her hip and rubbed her chin with one hand. “Not to tell you your style of course, but aren’t psychics vulnerable to ghosts? Why wear a ghost pokemon outfit?”</p><p>That was news to Diya. No psychics had lived in Ledos Village, so neither Shuppet-Diya nor the boy it had bonded with had only learned so much about them. &lt;Well it’s … how to put this&gt; Diya typed that to buy time, furiously wondering how to explain this. The Banette eventually settled on &lt;You know how pokemon can learn off-type moves? Psychics can learn some fairy and ghost moves too?&gt;</p><p>Claire nodded, reading Diya’s text with interest.</p><p>&lt;Some human psychics are like that too. I learned to do a lot of ghosty stuff as a psychic. I’m actually better at learning ghost moves than stuff like telepathy which is why-&gt; it gestured at the pokedex.</p><p>“Ohhh. Oh of course!” Claire laughed. “That does explain why you aren’t just speaking in my mind, yes. So you’re looking to be a ghost trainer then Diya, or just playing into your psychic specialty?”</p><p>&lt;I already am one!&gt; Diya told her proudly. It signalled for Svartis to flow out the collar of its cloak, while rushing to reassure Claire before Svartis’ appearance could startle her. &lt;Don’t worry about her poison gas, it’s not a problem for trained Gastly.&gt; Turning to its companion Diya told her, Svartis say hi!</p><p>“Svartissss!” she hissed. She smiled broadly at Claire and manifested a hand to wave with. &lt;That’s her name&gt; Diya added, to forestall any confusion.</p><p>“Oh my,” Claire said marvelingly, “such a well trained and polite pokemon.” She inclined her head, bowing slightly. “Nice to meet you Svartis, I’m Claire.”</p><p>Svartis bobbed its head in return and then swooped back under Diya’s cloak. Apparently that was all the socializing she was interested in doing at the moment. </p><p>“Well,” Claire said, “that is certainly an impressive starter pokemon. You’ll have to tell me sometime how you got her.”</p><p>&lt;Later,&gt; Diya replied, &lt;it’s a long story. But a good one. Right now though I wanted&gt; wait. What had Diya wanted? It had walked up to Claire’s desk for a reason, because it wanted … because it wanted …</p><p>… what had it wanted?</p><p>“Slip your mind, dear?”</p><p>&lt;YES!&gt;</p><p>Claire covered a laugh with her hand. “It’ll come to you, I promise. I’ll sit back down and get back to work, you just tell me when you remember what it was.” She did just that, sitting back down and placing her hands on the keyboard and looking at one of her monitors.</p><p>Oh! The monitor did it, reminding Diya of what it wanted. &lt;I remember! Can I look at more of the Spinarak’s training?&gt;</p><p>“If you want, of course! Just so you know though, it hasn’t reached any of the interesting stuff I know you trainers like to see. No combat training or other command following yet. For whatever reason that Spinarak is very skittish of humans and it’s still in the initial desensitization phase.”</p><p>&lt;That … might be my fault. I beat it with psychic powers, not with Svartis.&gt;</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>&lt;It might think humans are scarier than they really are.&gt;</p><p>“Yes that would do it. Ah well, the virtual training will just take a few hours longer then. Do you still want to watch?”</p><p>Diya nodded intently. &lt;Yes please.&gt; It didn’t know exactly what it was hoping to see but it felt like it needed to see this. This was the fate of a pokemon it had captured and sold. It couldn’t just forget about the Spinarak and never see it again. If nothing else this Spinarak’s capture had funded the start of its journey, and it owed the bug pokemon the respect of caring about its fate.</p><p>“Okay then! Here, come around behind the desk. I’ll put it on a second screen and set it to slow down whenever something interesting happens. You can watch it while I get some other work done. Does that sound good?”</p><p>&lt;It does. Thank you very much Claire!&gt; The Banette settled in behind the desk to watch the rhythms of the Spinarak’s desensitization training. </p><p>On the screen, bursts of blurry motion were punctuated by sudden stillness as the human stand-in interacted with the Spinarak. It was meditative to watch, but never wholly predictable. A dozen times in a row the Spinarak would calmly let the human pass. Then it would attack them in a frenzy three times in a row, each time sliding off the implacable figure without leaving a mark. Then an even longer period of stillness and letting the human pass.</p><p>Svartis stirred under Diya’s cloak. What are you watching? she wondered.</p><p>Could she not see the screen?</p><p>No, she sent back. Whatever senses allowed her to see out from under Diya’s clothes without eyes evidently didn’t allow her to interpret electronic screens. So, she asked again, what are you watching?</p><p>That … was a good question. What <em> was </em> it watching?</p><p>The Banette couldn’t help but think about the wider implications of what it was seeing play out. How long would it take for a trainer to do this in real life? How many hundreds or thousands of hours of dangerous work with the Spinarak were the pokecenter’s simulations compressing into a few days of background computer work? </p><p>Part of why the boy it possessed had wanted to be a pokemon trainer because it seemed fun. Because it <em> was </em> fun. Being able to capture a Charmander and have your very own fire-breathing pet dragon was, objectively, awesome. But would the boy have felt the same way if there were hundreds of life-threatening hours of conditioning standing between capturing his pokemon and training alongside it?</p><p>For that matter there were many pokemon that simply couldn’t be safely conditioned and trained by hand. They were just too dangerous, too strong. There were still legendary and mythical pokemon like that today of course, which couldn’t be tamed even with all modern technology. There was even a gaping scar on Kenomao’s central mountain which could be seen from anywhere on the island, attesting to the terrible power of those pokemon still beyond humanity’s power to tame.</p><p>But with modern pokeballs and pokecenter simulations they were the exception. Almost every pokemon a modern trainer was likely to encounter could be caught and tamed. But Diya couldn’t help but think about what the world had been like before such marvels were invented. </p><p>How would the boy have felt about becoming a trainer if every Rhyhorn in the world was beyond any reasonable attempt to domesticate? What if being a trainer meant making your way in a world filled with titans too powerful to tame, fending them off with only the few more naturally docile pokemon one could afford the time and risk to train? Would the boy have been so eager to go out into such a world?</p><p>Would humans in such a world be as comfortable living side by side with even less threatening pokemon like Shuppets?</p><p>Diya kept watching the simulation. The screen blurred through a rest period, slowed to show a person walking carefully forward to leave a treat at the base of the Spinarak’s tree, and then blurred through another rest period.</p><p>And, it thought, how much better this was for the pokemon themselves. This Spinarak it encountered in the wild had been so hungry it’d risked fighting a human that was ten times its weight and immune to its Scary Face ability for a single meal. That wasn’t the action of a happy and healthy pokemon. That was the action of a creature which was living on the edge of starvation. But now? Now it was going to be a silk producer on June’s farm. That meant regular meals for it, safe shelter, health checkups and medicine, enrichment activities to keep it happy and productive, and above all else, <em> certainty </em>. It would have the surety that tomorrow would be just as good as today.</p><p>The world had once been a much more hostile place. Now it was a place where being a trainer was so natural and easy that children went on pokemon journeys. Where pokemon was a word that meant lifelong companions and protection, and where the natural end of battle was taming and partnership. There were exceptions that loomed large, untamed borderlands and the territories of legendary pokemon, but by and large the world was a fundamentally safe place.</p><p>Diya? Svartis prodded one more time. What are you watching?</p><p>Its Gastly wouldn’t get all the details if Diya tried to explain this to her. It knew it wouldn’t have understood before it had inherited the boy’s mind and memories. However smart Svartis may be, she didn’t have the context to understand this. But. It could still tell her what was important.</p><p>So Diya smiled to itself and told her what it could. I’m watching something very beautiful, it shared with her. A beautiful thing which made the world an infinitely better place.</p><p>Svartis huffed. She didn’t get it.</p><p>Did she remember how Igor and June were friends, back at The Mighty Meowth?</p><p>Yes, she remembered the friendship between the demon bug which stole dumplings and the nice tiny girl who gave good hugs.</p><p>That brought a snort from Diya’s nose. She wasn’t wrong about Igor. But really, did she remember how close the two of them were?</p><p>She did.</p><p>And Svartis was also close with Diya, right? Because they had a bond from Diya sharing a piece of its soul with her. They could feel each other’s emotions well enough to know they meant each other no harm and cared for each others’ presence. </p><p>A rush of warmth washed down their bond as Svartis agreed, <em> feeling </em> with all her heart the importance of not being alone.</p><p>Diya swallowed a lump in its throat at the intensity of the feelings. That was a yes. Well, it told her, Igor and June didn’t have a bond like that.</p><p>Svartis froze, countless tiny little movements of gas under Diya’s cloak freezing still. Literally - Diya shivered at the sudden cold. They didn’t? she asked.</p><p>No, they didn’t. But this -it gestured at the screen and all the deceptively simple electronics on Claire’s desk- was why they could be friends anyway.</p><p>It was a long minute before Svartis sent anything in response. She stirred under Diya’s cloak, rustling the fabric and causing the Banette’s sleeves and hem to move as if in a strong breeze. Diya watched the training continue on the screen as it waited for her to process that.</p><p>Was that true for all the pokemon outside too? Svartis eventually asked. All of the other trainers with their pokemon?</p><p>It was, Diya told her.</p><p>Oh. Svartis stirred some more. Should they… the Gastly paused, grasping for concepts it barely understood. Should they get Claire some food? As an ... offering?</p><p>Diya struggled not to laugh out loud with Claire right next to it. From what it could read from Svartis’ feelings, she thought Claire was some kind of god responsible for <em> all </em> the pokemon-trainer partnerships in the world. Nonono, it told her. Claire is just a person helping us use a useful tool. A tool that is actually quite common, though no less amazing for it. But Claire is nice and we should thank her for helping us.</p><p>Oh. Svartis thought for a long time. On the screen the Spinarak’s training cycled through blurry downtime and the slow cautious approach of the training’s human stand-in. This thing you’re looking at, Svartis finally asked, it helps people and pokemon not be alone?</p><p>Diya nodded emphatically. It does, it sent.</p><p>Svartis sent back a mental hum, still pondering. She pulled in close to Diya’s body under the cloak, pressing herself up against its chest and back. Yes, she finally said, tasting the idea as she did. That is beautiful. </p><p>Diya had a big wide smile on its face when it turned back to Claire. &lt;I’m done now&gt; it told her. &lt;And Claire, thank you very much.&gt;</p><p>“Of course,” Claire’s fingers flew over her keyboard as she adjusted the Spinarak’s training so it was constantly accelerated again. “It was no problem.”</p><p>&lt;I really mean it.&gt; Diya persisted. It took the time to type its thoughts out in detail. &lt;Thank you so much. All of this, helping me get a pokedex, helping me get the rest of my gear, giving me a place to sleep tonight - all of it means so much. I’m not sure I would have been able to start my journey without your and June’s help. And also, thank you for managing the training simulations. That’s really important and someone should thank you for it.&gt;</p><p>At that Claire’s eyes softened. “Oh Diya dear, that’s why pokecenters exist.” She smiled warmly. “I’m here to help, and I’m proud to do so.”</p><p>&lt;You should be.&gt;</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>When I was young, the most magical part of pokemon for me was always the fantastical creatures. The fire breathing dragons and the living plants and the cute electric mice and the giant serpents made of rock and the living ghosts. And that <em> is </em> wonderful. There is a magic in the pokemon world and its amazing cornucopia of varied creatures to battle and befriend.</p><p>But now that I'm an adult, that's not the <em> most </em> magical part of pokemon for me anymore. The pokecenters are the most magical part of the pokemon world for me now.</p><p>This is a world in which every single town has a central building. And in this building any traveler can stay and eat, for free. Anyone can be healed and have their pokemon healed, for free. There is computer access and the help of a highly trained staff member available throughout the day, for free. Pokeballs, potions, etc, are all available there for cheap prices a traveling kid can afford.</p><p>Now there may be some niche bit of canon somewhere which contradicts this. (Pokemon in general does not have the most consistent canon, to be honest). But pokemon does have a very consistent theme and feeling. And I'm a fairly typical pokemon kid. I grew up watching the anime, got mildly involved in the card game, watched my friends play the games, and played some games myself later in life. You know, the pokemon experience.</p><p>And this is the impression I always got of pokecenters from pokemon. If you're hurt or your pokemon are, you can go there for help. No cost, no fuss, and no worries. There is always a place for travelers there. And there is always, always someone there to help you. Even in the small towns.</p><p>That is <em> amazing </em>. It says something about the pokemon world, that that's part of it. It's a quiet magic, a little wonder humming away in the background enabling the world of pokemon to be the place of fearless exploration and joy it is. And it's something I wanted to more explicitly be a part of this story.</p><p>So let's give a hand to all the Nurse Joys in the pokemon world, or in this story, Nurse Claire. They deserve it.</p><p>-----</p><p>Ryhorn (Ground/Rock):<br/></p><p>Pokemon Center:<br/><br/><br/></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Informational: Kulning, Spinning Thread, and Transhumance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is an informational chapter, for anyone who wants more context on some of the real-life activities shown in the next chapter. Specifically kulning (a form of herding call), spinning thread, and transhumance (not transhumanism). This can be read alongside or after the following chapter, or not at all.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><span class="u"> <strong>Kulning</strong> </span> <span class="u"></span></p><p>Examples: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KvtT3UyhibQ">1</a>, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xNuIyUXgwQM">2</a>, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PhAHwTda380">3</a></p><p>Kulning is a very loud, high pitched, far-traveling herding call set to a general musical tune used by herders in parts of Scandanavia. But that understates ... well, basically every part of it.</p><p>Kulning is <em>loud.</em> At maximum volume and point blank range, it can be as high as 125 decibels. To put that in perspective, your typical jet engine is between 120 and 140 decibels. For those who don't know the decibel system, that means a max volume kulning is 3x louder than the quietest jet engines, and only 30x as quiet as the loudest jet engines.</p><p>Kulning's sound profile is also <em>weird as hell</em>. The highest frequencies in it are way above human hearing. There's also a repeating profile to its frequency spectrum, the ultra-high frequency patterns look just like the merely high frequency patterns. This does two things. First, higher frequency sound experiences less loss as it travels through the air, so it just naturally travels far.</p><p>Second, sound has this thing called a nonlinear high-frequency response. It means that ultra-high frequency sound can be down-converted into high frequency sound by its interactions with air. So even after the human-audible high frequency sound has been eaten up by the air, the ultra-high frequency sound is still going, and being converted down into human-audible high frequency sound of the same pattern as the original human-audible kulning.</p><p>The result of which is that kulning travels way further than ordinary sound should. Kulning can be heard <em>5 kilometers</em> away, or an hour's walk. That's so far the lag time between the sound starting and reaching you can be a good quarter of a minute.</p><p>So ... yeah. Kulning. Bashak uses it as a herding call because it <em>works</em>. </p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <strong>Spinning</strong> </span>
</p><p>If you want to know more about the role spinning thread might play in the life of a transhumant like Bashak, who lacks easy access to modern amenities through most of the year, I highly recommend <a href="https://acoup.blog/2021/03/05/collections-clothing-how-did-they-make-it-part-i-high-fiber/">this historian's blog series</a>. He also references much more detailed books, for those who want to take a deep dive.</p><p>Now hopefully I describe what the spinning process looks like adequately in the story. But if you want a visual, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tQYdmRw-gHM">here's a video</a> of distaff and drop spindle spinning.</p><p>But why spinning? you might ask. Why is Bashak spinning, and not knitting, or crocheting, or doing some other portable wool related task? Heck, why isn't he just idling? He's a herder, right, isn't that what they do while watching their flock? Well, for most of recorded human history (prior to the invention of the spinning wheel in the late middle ages), textile production consumed an <em>enormous</em> amount of time. Like, most of the labor of about half the population. And of that textile labor, spinning thread consumed ~<em>85%</em> of the labor hours involved.</p><p>So for any person who makes their own clothes from scratch and is too mobile most of the day to use a spinning wheel, they're going to spend a huge amount of time spinning thread. Like, every single spare second where they're standing still and have both hands free.</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <strong>Transhumance In The Pokemon World</strong> </span>
</p><p>Transhumance (or being a transhumant) is simply the practice of being a herder who migrates with one's flock on a seasonal cycle. For those who live in North America (or other areas where US factory farming practices have been exported, particularly parts of South America), this may seem quaint and outdated. But it's actually still a common practice basically everywhere else in the world. The only real difference is that modern transhumants are more likely to transport their herds long distances by train car than by foot.</p><p>In the pokemon world I'm establishing, this is the dominant form of raising herd animals. So many farm pokemon are described as needing extensive personal care and companionship to be productive, or even to evolve at all, that factory farming just doesn't make sense with pokemon. Of course pokeverse transhumants are more likely to transport their herds by e-storage pokemon transporters than by train car or by foot. But other than that, all the advanced technology of the pokemon world hasn't really done anything to replace transhumance as an agricultural style.</p><p>Furthermore, the pokemon world as I envision it is much more fragmented and less explored than our modern world. The extreme danger of wild pokemon regions and the care with which they need to be inhabited (if they can be inhabited at all) means humans hit the internet age <em>before</em> spreading to all corners of the earth, not after. This means that many places where humans live are still 'on the frontier', and it's not uncommon for infrastructure in such regions to simply not extend to transhumants' migratory herding spots. So many transhumants, like Bashak's family, get by without immediate access to modern trading networks and products during much of the year.</p><p>Which is how in a world with pocket dimensions and matter transporters you still get migratory herders who hand-craft their own clothing from scratch.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Episode 10: Another Friend!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There's an informational chapter about some of the real life stuff in this chapter, which I posted just before this. You can go check it out alongside or after this chapter for some hopefully interesting context.</p><p>Phew. This chapter was 11k words (25 pages) and counts for a fifth of the total word count so far. I have no idea why little-speaking Bashak of all characters decided to demand so much screen time, but boy did he ever. I'm just glad I managed to get it done without taking too long.</p><p>Speaking of which though, this chapter is now more than 100 pages long according to my google docs document! 🎉🎉🎉</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Herdier is a light brown canine Pokemon with a short snout. Its face has long cream fur, which forms a mustache and a three-pointed crest. Its ears are large and perked, and it has a black nose. It has shaggy dark blue fur covering its body and a short tail. This hard, thick fur serves to protect Herdier from attacks. It has four short legs, with three-toed paws.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Herdier is very loyal, smart, friendly, and it will help its Trainer raise other Pokemon. Herdier is a natural choice as a helper Pokemon for trainers, though it will not obey anyone who disrespects it. Herdier has been theorized to have been the first Pokemon to have been partnered with humans, based on what was discovered on the walls of caves.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>-----</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It pained Diya to get up before the sun so soon after the long midnight trek which had started its journey. And it pained it almost as much to let go of the big stuffed Piplup it had curled around during its sleep. But the last thing it wanted to do was to disappoint its new potential friend. And it was nervous about that, if it was being honest with itself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The younger trainer felt like it had a lot to prove. June, and presumably her friend Bashak too, were older than typical journeyers. June was in her late teens and had probably finished her primary education already. Heck she might even be in her very early twenties, for all Diya knew.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the body and mind Diya had inherited were on the young end of the journeyer spectrum. The boy had only been in his fourteenth winter. And even if having the mind of a mature Banette changed things somewhat...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya was still a child, in many ways. And it had the courage to admit it to itself that it was worried June’s friend would think of it as a child. That he would look down on it. If it really looked deep and asked itself the hard questions, maybe it was even worried that a bad impression on Bashak would cause June to think less of it too. They’d known each other their whole lives after all, and Diya was only some new kid June had just met.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a lot of pressure on it to get this right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So even though it was sore and bleary eyed from the early hour, Diya got up promptly to the sound of its new pokedex’s awful electronic alarm. It brushed its teeth, gently prodded Svartis awake, took a shower, gently prodded Svartis awake again, got all of its cool new gear together, gently prodded Svartis some more to keep her awake, and double-checked its equipment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pokeballs, storage balls, backpack, food, water, boots, fancy new hat, Svartis-concealing cloak, new scarves - oh, which new scarf should it wear today? Even though it was keenly aware of the early meeting time it had to keep, Diya took its time selecting its scarf. Aside from the lighter purple trim its new outfit was fairly drab and dark, so any color would stand out and make an impression. And it did want to make a good impression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya eventually picked a bright green scarf with yellow sunflowers. It was bright and cheerful, and that was a good impression to make.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Did it have everything? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The young trainer cast an eye towards its big plush Piplup. It could just leave its sleeping companion here in the hotel room for the day but … Diya rummaged through its cloak pockets until it found the storage ball with its camping supplies in it. It pressed the button and materialized them in a flash of red light, unzipped the sleeping bag and stuffed the Piplup in. Then it zipped the sleeping bag back up and stored it all back in the ball.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There. Diya would feel better knowing it wasn’t going to come back and find its precious plushie missing somehow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Svartis slipped under her trainer’s cloak on their way out the door, pulling herself together into a lazy amorphous blob under the cloak. She wasn’t up for stirring it into any unearthly fluttering at the moment and Diya sympathized. It remembered what dawn had been like as a Shuppet. The moment of the day when the sun shown anew had always fiercely drained its strength when it was a bodiless spirit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a quick breakfast of pokecenter noodles and broth, and a couple carefully devoured handfuls of blueberries, Diya set off for the edge of Canopy Town. It checked its new pokedex’s map, fiddling with the unfamiliar interface. June had said Bashak would be … there, right? Hopefully his camp wouldn’t be too hard to find.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was that hard to find, in fact. For all that the boy had taken regular wilderness survival lessons growing up in Ledos Village and Diya had inherited his experiences, Diya couldn’t seem to find Bashak’s camp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The young trainer was starting to get nervous when a Herdier, a small dog pokemon, came racing up to it through the snow. The Herdier had a face and underbelly of brown fur, with a lighter brown beard of longer fur dangling down their chin. And on their back, standing out against the snow, was a coat of long blue hair so dark it almost looked black which bounced as they ran. Diya giggled softly seeing the little pokemon run. It almost looked like they had a cloak just like Diya’s!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Herdier zoomed up to Diya, coming up just taller than its knees, and without slowing launched themself into a series of tight circles around Diya’s legs. They brushed the Banette’s cloak as they ran, letting out a series of rapid barks which carried through the forest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A short set of high whistles drifted through the forest in answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Herdier barked loudly once more before suddenly coming to a stop in the snow, planting themself on Diya’s left side. They looked up at the young trainer, beard fluttering with their panting breath. They barked to Diya three more times with a quieter and deeper bark which Diya felt in its chest. Then they turned around, raced a half dozen meters off to Diya’s left, turned back around, and barked again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Svartis stirred under Diya’s cloak. What was that noise? she grumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A Herdier which was going </span>
  <em>
    <span>probably</span>
  </em>
  <span> to lead them to Bashak, Diya guessed. That or … well, okay this was definitely Bashak’s Herdier. Diya had no idea what else could be going on. The Banette set off following the Herdier, who obligingly dashed forward through the snow, pausing every dozen meters to turn around and wait for Diya to catch up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had to walk for a few minutes before they came across Bashak’s camp. But once they got there Diya wondered how in the world it and Svartis had missed it. When it was told that Bashak was camping outside of town the picture its mind had formed was something flimsy and temporary. A small fabric tent, a fire pit dug a few meters away from it, and a log dragged over to sit on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The actual camp Diya found looked like it might weather a winter storm better than some of the houses in town. The tent was a dense squat circular thing of layered white wool felt and it looked like it might be heavier than some of the trees it was nestled between. It was large too, tall enough for an adult to stand upright if they weren’t claustrophobic and wide enough to pace inside. And the peak had a small opening that a </span>
  <em>
    <span>chimney</span>
  </em>
  <span> was sticking out of. That was a tent someone could light a fire and cook inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The snow had also been swept away from the tent half a dozen meters in every direction and built up into something resembling earthenworks. Broken sticks had then been stabbed into the waist high packed snow, pointing outwards. They weren’t sharpened to points but the message to any wandering pokemon which might want to investigate the tent in the night was clear. “Don’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And sitting in front of the tent was the boy Diya assumed must be Bashak. He was seated in a comfortable folding chair of wood and dyed blue felt, sipping from a steaming metal thermos. He was wearing layers of heavy brightly colored wool, all greens and reds and golds, embroidered with abstract patterns to the point where the decoration must have weighed as much as the base material. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At a first glance it looked too fancy for practical work clothes and Diya wondered if maybe this wasn’t the herder it was looking for. But then at a second glance Diya realized the boy’s coat was actually quite rugged. It wasn't a thing of delicate embroidery, it was the kind of handmade clothing made to last many years because it </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed</span>
  </em>
  <span> to last that long. It was decorated to such a degree not to be ostentatious, but because when someone only had the time to handcraft a few outfits they put everything they had into them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Herdier circled around to a gap in the broken sticks of the snow wall and leapt over, racing to leap into the boy’s lap. The boy held his thermos out of the way in a clearly practiced gesture, moving it clear of the Herdier’s charge. He grunted softly at the impact. “Good job Greta,” he said softly, scratching behind her ears. Then he turned in his seat to face Diya. “You’re Diya?” he asked. “I’m Bashak.” He pronounced it baas-haak, with a faint trill on the h which hadn’t been there when June had said it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya nodded. It was pretty sure June had told the other trainer it was mute, but it waved its pokedex just in case to remind him. At his answering wave to come closer Diya did, following the Herdier’s -Greta’s- path.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It got a better look at Bashak as it did. The boy had unusually pale skin, to the point where the snow-glare had given him a light burn rather than tanning him. His brown eyes were framed by heavy solid glasses. And -Diya had to hold back a giggle- he had a big mop of unruly black hair which looked </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span> like Greta’s ‘cloak’ of black fur.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Diya approached, Bashak set his thermos down on the ground and held Greta to his side with one arm, pushing himself upright with the other. And … oh. Oh. As he stood Diya's eyes followed Bashak up. And up. And up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak was </span>
  <em>
    <span>big</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His face was youthful. Where June could have been anywhere from fifteen to twenty-five at a glance Bashak was clearly in his late teens at most. But that didn’t stop him from being two meters tall if he was a centimeter. Heck if his youthful face was any indication, he might still grow even </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And clearly at some point in the boy’s development his body had asked itself, “Should I fill this frame out with muscle or fat?”. To which the boy’s genetics had answered, “Why not both?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>June had not told Diya that her friend was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>giant.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The giant held out his hand to shake, which Diya reciprocated without thinking. Its hand was swallowed up by the bigger trainer’s. “Hello Diya. It’s nice to meet you,” he said in a voice that was surprisingly not so deep as to reverberate in the younger trainer’s chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya nodded likewise until it could take its hand back and type out, &lt;Nice to meet you too!&gt; Then, more sheepishly, &lt;Sorry if I’m late, I had trouble finding my way.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That drew a snort from Bashak. “June gave you directions?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;Yes.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s a reason I sent Greta to find you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya snorted, giggling a little in the back of its throat. &lt;Ah. I will keep that in mind.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The older trainer scratched Greta behind the ears with his free hand and then set her down. She circled his feet twice enthusiastically and dropped down next to him, eyes fixed attentively up on her trainer. “She was good?” Bashak asked, “Not too pushy? No nipping?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diay didn’t know much about training herding dogs, but it thought she’d been great. &lt;She was great! All business, but not pushy. The moment she showed up I knew to follow her. She was patient too.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That brought a broad happy smile to Bashak’s face. He smiled, leaning down -down, down, down- to scratch her behind the ears again. “Good girl.” He told Diya by way of explanation, “It’s good to hear that. We’re aiming for the Canopy Gym search and rescue badge.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;Neat! Are you training for any other Canopy badges?&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak started to shake his head, then paused. “Well. The winter survival badge, but-” he gestured at his encampment. “Not worried.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ghost trainer snickered and Svartis caught on to the sentiment and laughed a little herself. &lt;But you seem like such a city kid!&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That earned a bark of laughter from Bashak. “Hah! No. We live in June’s town only for the winter. And spring in our mountains can be worse than this if it’s a bad year.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya believed that wholeheartedly. A few inches of snowfall and temperatures below freezing were as bad as it got on its island. Though -Diya’s swallowed heavily- even that could be enough to kill when someone wasn’t prepared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What badges are you after?” Bashak continued, turning the conversation back towards Diya. Diya eagerly seized on the conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;Winter survival, absolutely. That’s very important to me. And&gt; Diya thought to itself. It hadn’t actually put much thought into what badges it would get in Canopy Town, only to getting here in the first place. &lt;And search and rescue.&gt; Its ability to taste pain and fear would probably be useful there. &lt;And ice battle too, if I can catch combat pokemon or Svartis turns out to be a good fighter.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So all of them,” Bashak remarked with good humor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well … &lt;Yes.&gt; Diya confirmed. &lt;Except grass battle. Wrong season for that, obviously.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bigger trainer looked around with a raised eyebrow at the snow-covered landscape and snorted. “Yeah,” he said amusedly. Then he looked back at Diya. “Speaking of Svartis though, introduce us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With an encouraging mental prod from its trainer, Svartis flowed out from the neck of Diya’s cloak, forming a body next to her trainer’s head. Greta’s ears twitched and she tracked Svartis with her eyes but at a gesture from Bashak she relaxed. She kept a lazy eye on Svartis, but only a lazy one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Say hello, Svartis, Diya prompted its pokemon. “Svvvaaaaartiisssssss,” the Gastly hissed, grinning widely and baring her tiny fangs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak’s lips twitched. He straightened up -stars and shadows he’d been </span>
  <em>
    <span>slouching</span>
  </em>
  <span> and still been that tall- and bowed slightly. He crossed one arm over his chest and inclined his head, leaning forward. “Hello Svartis, spirit of snow. I am Bashak, a herder. I am honored to meet you.” He smiled as he bent forward, keeping his eyes fixed on Svartis.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Svartis grinned wider, flying from Diya’s shoulder to dissolve into a blurry mass of purple gas. She circled the taller trainer’s head twice before flowing back to her perch and reforming over Diya’s shoulder, still grinning. I like him, she informed Diya. His soul tastes of happy pokemon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With one hand Diya reached up to pet Svartis’ semi-corporeal body, and with the other it typed out a message. &lt;She likes you.&gt; Diya informed the other trainer. &lt;A lot.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad,” he said in response, still smiling. “It’s not every day one meets a spirit strong-willed enough to come back from death. Extending some respect is the least I can do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya cocked its head. Bashak was much more talkative than June had led him to believe. It wondered if maybe he wasn’t the silent type so much as he was the type of person willing to let other people fill silence. To June the two would certainly be indistinguishable. Diya giggled under its scarf at the thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As it was thinking about that Diya typed, &lt;It wasn’t the respect that made her like you though. She says your soul smells of happy pokemon.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” he asked, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Suddenly it was very easy for Diya to remember that Bashak was a teen too, in spite of the boy’s size. The look on his face could only be described as a childlike wonder and delight. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>smiled</span>
  </em>
  <span> and his whole face lit up like the sun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;Really.&gt; Diya confirmed. The Banette’s soul senses weren’t quite the same as its Gastly’s, but what it could taste from Greta at least confirmed Svartis’ assessment. The Herdier at Bashak’s side was totally devoid of any grief so far as Diya could sense. Not even boredom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” Bashak said, glowing with pride, “it’s not every day you get such nice news. Let’s make the most of it. Ready to help me catch some Swinubs?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Banette nodded enthusiastically. Of course it was!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good, just one moment please.” The herding trainer folded up his chair and walked over to his tent, slipping the chair inside. Then he pulled a black storage ball out from inside his jacket. It was an expensive heavy load one, with two white stripes on the top to signify its greater capacity. The ball cracked open and the whole tent vanished into it, leaving behind a flattened circle of grass. “We can go now,” he told Diya.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;You’re not coming back here?&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am. This way no wild pokemon get in while I’m gone though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Banette had a sudden image of going to school in the morning and instead of locking its front door, packing the whole house up into a storage ball. The image was so bizarre and sudden it couldn’t help but laugh. It cackled behind its scarf and shared the mental context with Svartis, who cackled as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak raised an eyebrow. “Share the joke?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Banette did, typing as best it could while laughing. It didn’t expect Bashak to find it funny, it was kind of a ‘you had to be there’ joke. But it got to be surprised when Bashak did laugh, throwing his head back and laughing even harder than the Banette.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;?&gt; </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Through his laughter Bashak told her, “That’s actually what we do, when we’re up in the mountains.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;Really?!&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should walk and talk,” Bashak said, setting off at a steady pace Diya had to race to keep up with, Svartis and Greta following close behind. “But yes. Why bother locking up your shelter when you can pick it up and take it with you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;What about at night?&gt; Diya walked fast for a few steps to get out ahead of Bashak and show him its pokedex. &lt;Surely you lock up then?&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm,” the herder hummed as he ducked under a branch. “Hard to lock a tent flap in a way that’ll keep an Ursaring out. Best way to stay safe is numbers and watchdogs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;Numbers and watchdogs?&gt; Diya prompted when he didn’t continue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. My pokemon sleep with me in the tent and I’ve got a pair of Chansey who trade watches.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;Chansey are combat pokemon?&gt; As it typed the Banette’s face twisted into a grimace under its scarf. It was hard to walk through the snowy forest and type at the same time, especially when it had to keep pace with the other trainer’s much longer legs. It kept having to type short inadequate sentences and jog ahead to show them to Bashak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, not really. Not for trainer battles anyway. Still useful against predators though. They’ve got great hearing and they’re sturdy, makes ‘em hard to kill in an ambush. And their songs will disorient an attacker long enough for the herd to wake up and fight back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya glanced back at Svartis. It wondered how she’d do in a similar role. Ghosts’ soul senses were hard to hide from, and the Gastly’s gaseous body was difficult to injure. And her soul smog … hm. It would really have to experiment with her to see exactly what it did in a fight. Just seeing it in the phantom world made Diya sure it would affect a living pokemon’s soul, and it knew the classic symptoms of Gastly poisoning, but it didn’t know how quickly or intensely. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak followed its eyes. “Svartis, she’s new right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other trainer’s eyes narrowed a little in thought. “Ever fought with her before?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya shook its head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“After the Swinubs then, how about we spar and see what she can do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;Not before?&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak raised an eyebrow, “Hm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Banette slowed so it could type better and was relieved when Bashak slowed too, &lt;If we’re going to spar, shouldn’t Svartis and I practice before we fight the Swinubs?&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That earned Diya a very confused look from the other trainer before he suddenly started laughing. “Hahahaha! June didn’t tell you what we were doing, did she?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;Catching Swinubs?&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak only laughed harder. “Yes, but not like that. I’ll show you what we’re doing when we get there. Just don’t attack the Swinubs.” The older trainer set off at speed again, fast enough that Diya had to put away its pokedex to follow. Diya huffed and puffed its way after Bashak. Its body was in good shape, but Bashak was in </span>
  <em>
    <span>great</span>
  </em>
  <span> shape and Diya needed a step and a half for every stride the taller trainer took.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sun was just making its way clear of the horizon when Bashak finally stopped. He’d led them to a clearing on the top of a hill. There were not any Swinubs and, judging by the pristine snow, had not been any Swinubs for at least two days.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya said as much, fumbling out its pokedex and opening up the texting app to grouse, &lt;I see no Swinubs.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak laughed again, a good natured sound which Diya couldn’t possibly imagine being used for mockery. “They’re not here </span>
  <em>
    <span>yet</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” the herder told his companion. “We’ll bury some food in the snow and I’ll call them. They’ll hear the call, get curious, come, then stay for the food. Though I’ve been doing this for a few days, hopefully they know kulning means food now and’ll come quick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;Kulning?&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak smiled. “Herding call. Like this.” The herder shifted his posture to stand straighter. He projected his chest out a bit, held his head parallel to the ground, sucked in a deep breath and- Bashak coughed slightly and deflated. “Oh, uh, you may want to cover your ears.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the ground next to Bashak’s feet, Diya noticed Greta had flattened her ears to her skull and folded her paws over them. Prudence told Diya to learn from her example and it covered its ears with gloved hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That earned it a nod and a faintly heard “Good” from Bashak. The herder breathed in again and- “HWIEEEEEEEEEEEE OOOOOOUAAAAAAA YEEEEEEEEEEEEE HOOOOOOUUUUUUU!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sudden blast of noise caused Diya to flinch so hard the Banette jumped clear into the phantom world. Blessed silence came with the transition between worlds, marred only by a faint high-pitched ringing in Diya’s ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stars and shadows that had been </span>
  <em>
    <span>loud!</span>
  </em>
  <span> And more than loud, it had been unnaturally high pitched. When Bashak had said he was doing a herding call Diya’d imagined something deep and sonorous, not a piercing whistle blasting straight through its hands into its skull!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak was staring at the spot where Diya had disappeared and blinking rapidly when the Banette phased back into material existence. “You … vanished,” he said. Greta let out a concerned yip to voice her agreement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;You startled me!&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There was a whirl of shadows and my heart went cold like someone walked on my grave and you </span>
  <em>
    <span>vanished</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Bashak repeated, slowly and clearly as if Diya hadn’t heard him the first time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;The noise scared me so I used Phantom Step, that’s all.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not hurt?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh. Bashak wasn’t criticizing Diya for flinching, he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>worried</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Something in the boy’s heart Diya was using cracked a little at the realization. &lt;I’m not hurt, I’m fine.&gt; Diya reassured him. &lt;I use Phantom Step sometimes when I’m startled. It’s a defensive move.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The taller trainer, clearly still worried, tilted his head and frowned. “I’ve never heard of … do you mean Phantom Force?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;That is a terrible name! It’s bad and its wrong and the people who named it should feel bad! Who would name an ability to step between worlds after the force which prevents overlapping matter when you step back into the material world?! You *step* into the phantom world, it should be Phantom *Step*!&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least Bashak wasn’t worried anymore, if the laughter he was clearly suppressing was anything to go by. “Battle trainers,” he said with a snort.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;???&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Battle trainers are who would name that move after its reentry damage,” he clarified.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;Oh.&gt; Diya was loathe to admit it but, &lt;That … makes sense.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak snorted. “Only for battle junkies. I like your name better.” Then he cleared his throat. “Ahm, I should finish calling the Swinub though. Then we’ll set the food out for them, and I’ll show you what else we’ll be doing better than battle trainers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya nodded its approval and fastened its hands over its ears again, this time pressing in extra tight. Svartis went for the much more thorough route of vacating Diya’s cloak to bury her entire body under the snow. She hadn’t liked the sudden overwhelming blast of sound any better than her trainer had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even prepared, the shock of noise as Bashak started up his kulning again was still overwhelming. The Banette swore it could feel the inside of its skull ringing. But the longer it withstood the sound the more it started to </span>
  <em>
    <span>listen</span>
  </em>
  <span> to it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a melody to the call. Something Diya might even call a song. The notes of the call rose and fell, echoing off of distant hills. And in the moments when Bashak took a breath, Diya could hear the song as it was meant to be heard in those distant echoes. The sound came bouncing back as a haunting melody, something which sounded like it would be more at home in the phantom world than in this one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“IEEEEEEEEE OOOOOOUAAAAAAAA HOOOOOUUUUUU. HWIEEEEEEEEE OOOOOuaaaaaaa-” After minutes of singing, Bashak finally let his song fade. The beckoning echoes of the call lingered in the air for long seconds afterward though, only reluctantly giving way to the sound of Bashak’s laboured breathing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Svartis cautiously burrowed out from under the snow. Is it over? she asked Diya hesitantly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya didn’t answer immediately, struck dumb by the sheer intensity of the herder’s singing. It did eventually gather itself enough to tell Svartis that yes, it was over. Even if its ringing ears didn’t quite believe it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That should do it,” Bashak said, breathing hard. “Can you help me bury this food for them now?” He held up a storage ball and waved it in Diya’s direction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Banette swallowed a lump in its throat. It pulled off a glove and typed, &lt;That was amazing.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The big boy laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head through his fluffy hair.  “It is pretty loud isn’t it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;Where did you learn that?&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My parents.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;They must be proud.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The herding boy blushed, the color standing out brightly against his light skin. “I hope so. Uh, can you help me with-” he gestured with the storage ball again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;Oh! Sorry, yes!&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak summoned a large bag of food from the storage ball, filled with dried mushrooms, potatoes, onions, roots, mealworms, and more than a few plants Diya couldn’t identify at all. If they even were plants. Bashak assured Diya that the Swinubs would eat ‘just about anything’ though, so Diya buried the weird probably-plants under the snow with everything else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak stretched and yawned when they were done. “Now we wait,” he informed Diya.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;What if they don’t show up?&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The taller trainer shrugged. “Then I’ll call again. Come on, take a seat while we wait.” He walked over to a log at the edge of the clearing, brushed off some snow, and sat down. He patted the snow-cleared space next to him. “It’ll be a while.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After taking the seat Diya asked, &lt;Okay, will you finally tell me how we’re capturing them without battle?&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Sorry.” Bashak really seemed to mean it, wincing with his apology. “Didn’t mean to keep you waiting. Uhhhhh, tell me, how much do you know about how pokeballs capture wild pokemon? Or don’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;You mean how captured pokemon can escape?&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak nodded, gesturing for Diya to go on. Which was fair, a surprising number of the schoolmates Diya could recall in the boy’s memories had no idea how pokeballs worked. Which Diya found so odd. How could anyone see something as weird and wonderful as a pokeball and not immediately want to know how it worked?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya rubbed its ungloved hand to keep it warm and started typing, thumb dragging back and forth over the swiping keyboard. &lt;Pokeballs put pokemon in pocket dimensions, but those pocket dimensions have an exit. A pokemon can walk right through the edge of the pokeball’s space and out the mouth of the pokeball, no problem. A ‘captured’ pokemon isn’t imprisoned in the ball, it can leave whenever it wants.&gt; It turned its pokedex for Diya to see.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The herder nodded. “Yup. So how do we keep pokemon in pokeballs?” While he waited for Diya to type out its next answer he pulled a couple items out from the inside of his colorful jacket. An extendable stick covered in a big poof of wool at the end -probably Mareep wool from the way static electricity sparked over it-, a small stick with a hook on one end and a round ceramic weight on the other, and a thin copper wire with a hook on each end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;Pokeballs don’t just warp space, they warp time. They can stretch out time inside so much that it all but stands still relative to us. One day out here becomes a second in there.&gt; Diya rubbed its ungloved hand to keep it warm again. This whole typing to talk thing was kind of painful out in the cold air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But?” Bashak prompted. He took the copper wire and buried one end in the ground, then hooked the other in the poof of wool on his big extendable stick. He endured a few painful looking shocks as he did, but after the copper wire was hooked in the shocks stopped. The copper wire was grounding the Mareep wool’s electricity into the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;But the pokeball’s time has to be matched to our time outside to pull a pokemon in, and it takes a while for pokeballs to go from normal time to stasis. That’s why you need to fight a pokemon to exhaustion or paralyze it&gt; or hurt it until it was too injured to move, but that felt too cruel for Diya to say &lt;before catching it. It needs to not be able to reach the exit before the pokeball’s stasis kicks in.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak pulled some wool away from the big stick, making the whole thing look like a cloud with a bit sticking out, and tied that bit to the hook of the smaller weighted stick. Then he let the smaller stick dangle and whirled it with a flick of his fingers. Like magic the protruding bit of fluffy wool spun into neat tight thread. As the thread spun Bashak kept pulling more and more bits of fluff away from the main poof of wool, letting them spin into more thread. Once he had a rhythm going he looked over what Diya had typed and commented, “Do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>need </span>
  </em>
  <span>to beat up a pokemon to get it to stay put?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya thought for a moment. &lt;Not with a pokemon trained to stay put. But a pokeball’s inner space is </span>
  <em>
    <span>weird</span>
  </em>
  <span> and the capture transition is jarring. Wild pokemon always freak out and try to escape.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Always?” Bashak’s small weighted stick -Diya thought it was called a spindle- was dangling on a long length of thread now, almost touching the ground. He stopped its spin, looped the thread around the stick and tied the end of it to the hook, then started the process again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;I know you’re going to tell me why it’s not actually always, but as far as I know yes. Even sleeping pokemon get startled awake by the transition and run out.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about comfortable pokemon?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya would have responded but its ungloved hand was getting </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> cold. So instead it put its glove back on and simply waited for Bashak to elaborate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak kept spinning his thread as he spoke. The process was so practiced his hands worked on effortless autopilot, even with gloves on. “A sleeping pokemon which wakes up getting dumped into a pocket of twisted space is not a calm pokemon. But if a pokemon is awake and calm and trusts you,” he chuckled, “and you’ve got a Chansey or two singing feelings of security and comfort straight into its brain…” he trailed off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was probably a point where Diya was supposed to pick up the conversation but its typing hand was still cold and it didn’t want to take its glove off again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The herder waited for a few seconds before eventually clearing his throat awkwardly. He clearly wasn’t used to driving conversations, even if he was more talkative than June had suggested. “Well. It doesn’t work with all pokemon. Definitely not solitary or aggressive ones. But calmer social pokemon-” he shrugged. “Get them to trust you and they don’t even bother trying to escape the pokeball. Not in enough of a hurry to escape the stasis anyhow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya’s jaw slackened a little under its scarf. Was it really that easy? Why didn’t everyone do that instead of battle then? Its expression must have shown above its scarf, because Bashak answered its unspoken question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why doesn’t everyone do it like this?” He shrugged. “It works for herders. But we tame easy-going social pokemon that live in herds and don’t move around too much. I wanna come by each morning for a week and feed the Swinubs, they’ll be in the area and be happy to see me. Happy to trust me too. Plenty of other pokemon don’t stay that still, or trust that easy.” The herder thought to himself for a moment, then added as an afterthought, “Some are happier making you a meal than letting you feed them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak spun some more thread, taking his time to put his thoughts in order. He’d added a few more loops to the spindle when he started talking again. “This works for nine out of ten pokemon I’d want to catch. Lot less for most trainers though. It’d be nice if more trainers thought of catching pokemon like this anyway, when it could work. But I get why they don’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya nodded slowly. That made sense. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Banette flexed its hand inside its glove, to see if it could type a response to Bashak’s thoughts. Unfortunately it still wasn’t warm enough that Diya would want to type with it. Diya frowned slightly. Typing really wasn’t turning out to be the best communication method outside during the winter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Its lack of a response didn’t seem to bother Bashak though. The herder just kept spinning, turning raw fluffy wool into thread with meditative calm. But Bashak didn’t let their hilltop lapse into silence. As he spun a soft musical thrumming rose out of his chest, filling the air as it rose in volume. He hummed tunelessly, fully content to spin and hum if no further conversation was to be had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya smiled. It was going to have to thank June for introducing it to her friend. Bashak was nice. And probably gave the best hugs too. It would have to find an excuse to hug him before the day was done. The Banette tilted its head back and let Bashak’s humming wash over it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the Swinubs eventually found them they were still sitting like that, Bashak spinning and humming and Diya soaking it in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya laughed with delight when it saw the first Swinub crest the hill. They were so </span>
  <em>
    <span>fluffy!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diya had never seen a Swinub in person before and the sheer degree of fluffiness was astonishing. As far as Diya could tell they were round shin-high balls of fluffy fur with pink snouts and nothing else. The fur was light brown with darker brown vertical stripes, and that was the extent of their distinguishing features. No eyes or ears or legs could be seen, just round balls of fluff gliding through the snow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Banette didn’t even realize it had stood up to rush forward and pet one until Bashak’s hand came to rest on its shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whoa, slow down,” he told Diya. Bashak stood and began packing up his spinning equipment while he talked. “Don’t rush them, that’ll spook the Piloswines.” The mention of Piloswines made Diya pause. It hadn’t seen any Piloswines. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A swarm of two dozen or more Swinubs came cresting over the hill and descended on the buried food in a flurry. The small balls of fluff rooted about in the snow, burying their pink snouts as deep as they could before emerging with their prizes clutched triumphantly in their snuffling maws. Which was absolutely adorable and had caught all of Diya’s attention. So much so that it had missed the five Piloswine bringing up the rear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piloswine were the evolved version of Swinub and at first glance could be mistaken for nothing more than </span>
  <em>
    <span>chest</span>
  </em>
  <span> high balls of fluff. But a second glance showed more. Piloswine weren’t quite so round, hints of a heavy two-humped body showed under all their fur. And they moved with great ponderous strides, the weight of their bulk clearly too great to glide as their smaller relatives did. Most striking though were the tusks. Two thick ivory tusks thrust out from either side of their snouts, threatening grievous injury for anyone foolish enough to mess with them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh. Yes it was a good thing Bashak had grabbed Diya, because it had not noticed the Piloswine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With his hand still on Diya’s shoulder, Bashak laid out the rules of interaction, “If the Swinubs touch you first, you can touch them. But keep an eye on the Piloswines and stop if any of them tense up. Oh, and don’t feed them by hand. It’s bad if they learn they can get food by pestering humans.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya nodded. Its hand had finally warmed back up so it pulled out its pokedex and asked, &lt;Okay. Um, how do I actually help?&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“First? Walk around and show them you don’t mean harm. I’m still a weird unfamiliar creature to them, no matter how friendly I am. Two nice humans is a pattern though, and everyone feels safer with predictable patterns.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya nodded. It could do that. &lt;And second?&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm,” Bashak hummed. “June said you could read emotions and calm pokemon?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;Close. I can sense and dull painful or violent emotions.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak smiled. “Your talent would be amazing as a herder. Anyway, I can only capture four of the Swinubs to send home. I need males -they’re the ones with the extra wrinkle in the middle of their snouts- and the less aggressive the better. If I point some candidates out, can you tell me if they’re the type to play nice?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;I think so.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks Diya.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two trainers started walking together around the hilltop, weaving among ecstatically rooting Swinubs and giving the Piloswine a respectful berth. Diya giggled with delight when it saw two of the Swinubs start wrestling over a dried mushroom, but did as Bashak had asked and didn’t rush up to pet the living daylights out of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak smiled at the sight too. “They are cute like that. We don’t want those ones though. That play-fighting is cute when young, less so when they’re a hundred kilos of muscle and tusk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah, yeah, Diya could see that. It eyed the Piloswines. The thought of them fighting like that was much less cute. &lt;So&gt; Diya asked Bashak &lt;I understand the non-aggression. Why only male Swinubs though? Don’t herders typically want females?&gt; Diya’s understanding was that more female Swinub would mean more babies faster.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bigger trainer shrugged. “Normally, yeah. But there’s a Swinub sickness going around in some nearby valleys back home. If my family’s herd gets some more genetic diversity before it reaches us, hopefully it won’t hit us so hard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;Ohhh. And a few males can add genetic diversity to the next generation faster than a few females.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly,” Bashak confirmed with a grin that made Diya smile in turn. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;Why only four though? If you need more pokeballs I’ve got a bunch.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not that. Swinubs are protected pokemon on this island. You need a license to catch one and take it off-island, and I’ve only got four licenses.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;Ah. What about Piloswine?&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak shook his head, shaggy black hair bouncing about his face. “Except rarely, no. Most Swinub don’t make it to evolution in the wild so their herds are used to absorbing their losses. But each Piloswine is too important to the herd to take.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;That makes se&gt;- Diya cut off as Svartis’ thoughts pushed their way into its head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heeere, fluffy. Heeeeeeere, fluffy fluffy thing, Svartis teased.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya looked down to see a small Swinub staring at the hem of its cloak, snout pointing straight ahead with laser focus. Svartis was making the cloak flap in the wind. She teased the little ball of fluff, dangling the edge of the cloak juuust out of reach and then snapping it back to Diya’s boots. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya stood very still, trying to not scare the Swinub off. Its eyes sparkled and shone bright as it stared - literally, adding a faint pink tinge to the snow around the Swinub. Diya tore its gaze from the Swinub only long enough to glance over at Bashak and see he was staring just as intently, with a childlike smile on his face. It looked back as quickly as possible though, not wanting to miss a moment of this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Swinub leapt! Or at least, scooted forward aggressively. Under the fluff its legs were a bit too stubby to properly leap. It did its best to chase the flapping cloak hem anyway, galumphing after it and rearing up when Svartis pulled it up out of reach. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya tried to restrain its laughter, it really did. It didn’t want to scare the little Swinub. But when another two joined in and teamed up to pin down part of the cloak’s hem, it was just too much. They prodded it furiously with their pink snouts, trying to identify this strange flapping thing and Diya couldn’t hold it in any longer. It snorted. It giggled. And when it well and truly couldn’t hold it in anymore it clasped a hand over its mouth to keep the spirit-stuff in and </span>
  <em>
    <span>laughed</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately for Diya’s stomach -and Bashak’s, who was laughing freely as well- the Swinubs were </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> scared off by Diya’s laughter. Instead they seemed to take it as a sign that all the rest of them should join in this wonderful game too. Svartis set the whole cloak’s hem aflutter, chanting in Diya’s mind for the fluffies to come here, and they did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Laughter so intense it hurt rocked Diya’s frame, forcing it to double over. Then a cluster of Swinubs climbing on the edge of its cloak threw its balance off and it was all Diya could do to keel over in a direction that didn’t squish any of them. The Banette hit the ground in a poof of snow and was covered moments later by curious snuffling pokemon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Svartis decided that now would be a great time to set Diya’s sleeves fluttering too, which because one of its hands was covering its hysterical laughter meant Swinubs ended up all over the felled trainer’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak was </span>
  <em>
    <span>howling</span>
  </em>
  <span> with laughter. “Well, you, hehehe, you certainly, hahahaha oh gods my sides, they’re certainly comfortable with you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya tore its free hand from the Swinubs’ curious snouts just long enough to thrust its pokedex up in the air with a message, &lt;Help!&gt;. Its laughter kind of undermined its demand though. They were just so cute!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No no, this,” Bashak paused to double over and laugh, “this is perfect! Quick, while they’re roughhousing, see if you can tell which ones are -oh no don’t lick Diya’s eyes, hahahaha, shoo, shoo little one- see if you can tell which ones are aggressive about it and which ones are calmer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s easy for you to say! Diya wanted to cry out. You’re not buried under a carpet of adorable choking fluff!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Bashak was helping shoo away the ones which wanted to sit on its nose or prod its eyes, not just abandoning it to the heavy wave of fluffiness entirely. So Diya did its best to focus through the laughter and do its job. It was a struggle, but by the end Diya was pretty sure it had gotten at least a surface read on each of the Swinub’s personalities.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And eventually, after a Piloswine had come over and nosed the rambunctious Swinubs into some semblance of chastised order, Diya even got to stand up again. Bashak helped it brush the snow off its cloak, commenting on the fabric as he did. “Hmm. This isn’t wet at all. Good wool.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;You sound surprised?&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Machine woven wool isn’t always tight enough to be waterproof. You have a quality cloak.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;Good to know. Svartis certainly likes it.&gt; Diya’s sleeve flapped back and forth in a wave at the mention of her name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak snorted. “That she does.” There was a pause before Bashak continued, as he visibly worked up the energy to continue the conversation, “So the Swinubs, which ones…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;One sec.&gt; Diya rubbed its hands together hard, warming up its typing hand. Thankfully its blood was up from the laughter and the exertion and its hand hadn’t gotten too cold. &lt;Okay so that one over there has a bit of a mean streak-&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ghost trainer spent a few minutes laying out any negative emotions it had picked up from the Swinubs. There hadn’t been much, but those Swinubs would be siring a good number of the next generation of Swinubs for Bashak’s family, so Diya wanted to give Bashak as much detail as possible. It laid out every bit of excessive competitiveness, aggression, and sour feelings it had felt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Thank you Diya,” he told the Banette when it finished.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;Was that helpful?&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Mostly what I’ve already noticed, but confirmation is always good. Though that ‘devious’ Swinub you mentioned…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya waited for a bit after he trailed off, then asked, &lt;What about him?&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Reconsidering capturing that one. Too smart can be a hassle to herd.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya rubbed its typing hand to stave off the cold. It really wanted to put its glove back on, but there was one more thing it felt it should mention. &lt;Bashak, about the Piloswine?&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After the Swinub had calmed down and eaten their fill, the Piloswine had moved in to eat the rest. The Swinubs were still growing and needed all the food they could get to prepare for evolution, which made things difficult for them during the winter. But the Piloswine had deep fat reserves, they could afford to eat Swinub leftovers in the winter and pack the fat back on during Kenomao’s bountiful summers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except one Piloswine wasn’t doing more than nibble reluctantly at the leftovers. And it didn’t have deep fat reserves. It looked haggard. Lanky coarse fur hung off its bones in loose folds that screamed of poor health. And Diya had tasted its mental state when it had opened itself up to the Swinubs’ feelings. It was in pain. A lot of pain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> &lt;That Piloswine,&gt; Diya said, &lt;it’s hurting. Badly.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah. Yeah. Poor girl. Can’t do much for her. Apparently tapeworms are a common problem for Swinubs and Piloswine around these parts, and they don’t respond well to medication.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Diya was shaking its head before Bashak finished talking. &lt;It’s not that. Her jaw hurts.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That got Bashak’s attention. The older boy’s soft brown eyes turned to Diya and fixed there with a startling intensity. “You can read pain that precisely?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;Yes.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In an instant Bashak knelt down in front of Diya and jutted his jaw forward, proffering his face. “Show me. Touch my face where the pain is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Banette opened its mouth just a sliver under its bright green scarf and breathed in sharply. The Piloswine’s grief flowed into it and ... there. Diya reached out and ran its finger along Bashak’s face, from a bottom canine to the fleshy underside of his jaw and then back to the joint. &lt;There. It burns all the time and it hurts so much when she eats.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There wasn’t a trace of childish joy and charm in Bashak’s face as he stood up, he was as serious as a stone. He swore passionately. “I shouldn't have assumed it was tapeworms. She wouldn’t let me close to her earlier but I should have tried harder and-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy cut himself off and breathed deep. “Can you calm her down? Make her let us come close?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;I can’t control her like that, but I can take the pain away.&gt; </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do that. We’re going to help her.” Bashak unclipped two pokeballs from a belt under his jacket and released their occupants. “Helga, Bertha,” he called, “I need you.” Two flashes of red light solidified into a pair of Chansey. The round pink egg-carrying pokemon came up to his ribs and both murmured questioningly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Helga, sing trust. Bertha, sing sleep.” Each pokemon chirped a short “Chansey!” before opening their mouths and singing wordlessly together. A soft crooning harmony flowed from them which caused the Swinubs and the Piloswine to blink drowsily. But while their music was beautiful to Diya, it felt no preternatural effect from it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak dug into his jacket pockets and turned up a pair of earplugs. “These are for you,” he told Diya. “Me and Greta are used to their song but you-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya interrupted him. &lt;Sing is a normal type ability, right?&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;I’m immune.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Really?” For a moment Bashak’s serious face slipped and he snorted fondly. “You’d be </span>
  <em>
    <span>great</span>
  </em>
  <span> as a herder.” Then he fixed his jaw and directed Diya, “Okay, take her pain now. I’m going to approach and … and June said you can hit hard with telekinesis?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya nodded. Shadow Ball would do the trick if it came to a fight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. If things go wrong, don’t be afraid to hit her as hard as you can. She’s a big girl, she can take it. If I get gored though, you and Greta are </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> big enough to carry me back to town.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya nodded very seriously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Greta, with me. Retaliate only.” Bashak looked over at Diya and waited for it to suck in a breath - a thick column of black oily pain came rushing out of the Piloswine’s mouth - before cautiously crouching down and walking forward. The lack of pain must have been a shock to the Piloswine because she slumped suddenly as Diya began drawing from her. It did its best to take the bite of her hunger as well, and her miserable acceptance of a slow starvation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Heyyyy big girl,” Bahsak spoke. His voice was soothing and calm, without a trace of tension in it. “That feels good doesn’t it? It must have been hard carrying all that pain. Well don’t you worry, I’m here to help.” His soft tone and the Chanseys’ songs washing over the hilltop seemed to do the trick. The Piloswine didn’t stir or snort as he approached. In fact as the Chansey’s songs did their work she almost seemed more asleep than awake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak turned his head back to Diya for a moment, keeping one eye on the Piloswine. “Will the smoke hurt me if I touch it?” he asked softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya shook its head. Unless he was a psychic or a ghost himself, it should pass right through him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak resumed his approach, passing through the smoke as he neared the hurt pokemon. “I’m coming a little closer big girl but don’t you worry. I’m here to help. I just need to take a look in your mouth. I’ve got a flashlight right here, but I promise I won’t shine it in your eyes.” Bashak flicked on a light and held it up with one hand. With the other he reached forward-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The herder didn’t stop using his soft soothing tone of voice for a second as he asked Diya, “You’re sure you’re taking all her pain?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya nodded intensely enough that Bashak could see it from the corner of his eye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak very gently touched the bottom of the Piloswine’s snout on the opposite side Diya had pointed out. He gently, oh so gently, opened her mouth and shone his flashlight inside. “You’re doing so good for me,” he whispered to her, “just keep it up. I’m here to help you and if you let me, I’ll make sure the pain goes away for good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stared into her mouth and Diya swore it could hear its heartbeats pounding in its chest for every second Bashak was touching her. After taking a look Bashak slowly reached into his jacket and pulled out a potion bottle. Gently, watching the Piloswine’s reactions carefully the whole time, he sprayed the potion into her mouth twice. Then he gently let go and murmured, “You were such a good girl. Thank you. Don’t you worry, we’ll fix you right up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After that the taller trainer made his slow and careful way back to Diya, standing back up to his full height once he had some distance between himself and the pained pokemon. “Can you talk and concentrate on that at the same time?” he asked Diya.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;Ish.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak nodded. “Okay. Well, she has an infected tusk. It’s bad, tusk’s dentin is rotted to the core.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya’s eyes widened and its own jaw throbbed with a sympathetic echo of the phantom pain it was taking from her. Stars above. No wonder she couldn’t eat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The potion will help with the pain, but she needs a pokemon center. So we’re going to have to capture her with the Swinubs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a struggle to type a response and absorb grief so completely at the same time. Diya had to immerse itself deep in Piloswine’s experiences to pull its pain so fully, and holding the twin perspectives of a human body and a Piloswine one at the same time wasn’t easy. But Diya focused all of its will and managed, if barely. &lt;I thought no capturing Piloswine?&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not normally, no. But the big exception is if one will die of natural causes without human medical intervention. And she will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;How do I help?&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keep absorbing her pain. And I know it’s a lot to ask, but if you can help the others be less nervous too...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;I can.&gt; It would wait until right before they captured anything, but it could probably manage that for a few seconds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. Helga, keep singing trust. Bertha, sing peace.” The Swinubs and Piloswine on the hilltop stirred a bit as Bertha swapped her song of sleep for one of peace and their drowsiness lifted. But none of them made any sudden movements or gave any indication they were less comfortable with the trainers than when the Swinub had been climbing all over Diya.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Diya, can you keep taking her pain while she’s in a pokeball?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh. Diya’s concentration on taking the Piloswine’s pain wavered for a moment as it considered the implications of that, and it had to struggle to keep its focus on the task at hand. &lt;No.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak clucked his tongue and winced. “Thought that was the case. We’ll just have to hope the painkillers in the potion are good enough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;If not?&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well…” Bashak hesitated. “We’ll capture the Swinubs first. If the Piloswine breaks out of the ball upset, and she gets the herd upset…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya waited for him to finish, not entirely comfortable with how Bashak was hesitating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Svartis can fly, yes? She can cover for us as we run and still be safe?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was the opposite of encouraging. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Diya also didn’t hesitate before nodding yes. This pokemon was hurting. She’d die if no one helped her. And they could help her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was what was important. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The capture of the Swinubs was easy. First Bashak demonstrated recapturing and releasing Greta to the herd a few times. Diya was ready to absorb their nervousness if needed, but found it unnecessary. The red lightshow as Greta dissolved into energy and reappeared barely merited interest from the herd, let alone concern. Diya assumed Bashak had already showed them this more than once, on the previous days he’d visited the herd.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Bashak knelt down in front of one of the Swinubs he intended to capture. He held his hand out palm down for it to sniff and waited for it to come over. When it did he pet it, smoothing his hand over the pokemon’s thick fur until it was swaying on its hidden feet. Then he pulled out a pokeball with his other hand, armed it, and gently tapped it against the Swinub’s side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a flash of red light, and then no more Swinub.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of the Piloswine looked over at the flash. It moved slowly and ponderously, its protective instincts clearly inhibited by the Chanseys’ continuing song of trust and peace and Diya siphoning away its anxieties. But it did give Bashak a measured look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The herder didn’t bat an eye. He just let the Swinub out of the pokeball. Then he put it back in. And then out again. And in, and out-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Piloswine swayed its head to look over at Greta, who was sitting perfectly unharmed on the log the trainers had sat on early. It looked back at the Swinub, who was maybe a little confused but otherwise fine. Then it snorted and moved on, trundling away to dig up a piece of dried fruit the Swinubs hadn’t eaten.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak captured the Swinub one last time and waited for the pokeball to let out the pulse of red light which signified a successful transition to internal stasis.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next three Swinubs were captured just as easily without a peep of complaint from the herd. Which just left the Piloswine with the infected tusk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak looked over at Diya. “Ready?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Numb aching fingers swiped over its pokedex. &lt;One moment.&gt; Diya told Svartis to be ready as well. If they had to run, she’d have to distract the herd and hold it off as best she could. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking over Bashak, Diya sized up the bigger trainer. It could take Svartis with it into the phantom world easily enough, but her gaseous body weighed as much as a feather. If it had to, would it be able to pull Bashak along with it? It thought about it. Probably. Few ghost pokemon could use Phantom Step as readily as Banettes could, and it had always been stronger than its siblings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It tapped Bashak on the shoulder. &lt;If we run I’ll Phantom Step us. I’ll hold it as long as I can. Svartis will gas them, make them short of breath. Head start + gas, we’ll be fine.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak turned to face Diya and … tried to smile confidently. But instead it was a weak and shaky smile, and when the older trainer let out a breath it was unsteady. Diya blinked and for the first time took the Banette stock of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bashak’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> negative emotions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was scared. Sharp jittery fear from when he’d approached the Piloswine was still lingering under his skin. His actions and bearing had the confidence of long practice and experience, yes, but underneath that was a fragile uncertainty. Diya reached deeper and-</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>-A younger Bashak scrambled back from the rearing Mudsdale which had thrown him. His father stepped in and caught the reins, expertly bringing the panicking pokemon back down to the ground. He shielded Bashak it with his body and spoke to it in a low calm-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>-His mother watched him struggle to lift the heavy feed bag with careful eyes. Her hands hovered beneath his, ready to catch it if he slipped. “Steady there pumpkin, just a little bit more.” He was too small to do this work and his grip was slipping, but he’d wanted so badly to-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>-”You missed a stitch, right there,” his older brother said, pointing to a spot on the toque he was knitting. “I know, I know, it’s annoying, but you’ll get it. Trust me, one day you’ll be the one doing the teaching.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya breathed deep through its nose. Bashak had done this all before. This wasn’t his first time capturing wild pokemon or dealing with a hurt pokemon that might lash out. It wasn’t even his hundredth. But it was his first time doing it without his family there to catch him if he failed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No wonder he was nervous.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;Hey,&gt; Diya tapped Bashak and showed him the pokedex, &lt;you’ve got this.&gt; And Diya believed that. It had seen Bashak fail in his memories, over and over again. But it had also seen the boy learn from those failures. It believed Bashak could do this, and handle the consequences if not. It just needed Bashak to believe that too. So it pulled down its scarf and smiled at the boy, letting all of its faith shine through. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak swallowed heavily, but now the nervousness which Diya felt accompany the gesture was a good thing. It was born of the desire to live up to someone’s expectations, not the fear of failure. “Thank you Diya,” he said roughly. “You ready now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;Yes.&gt; Diya put its pokedex away and slipped its glove back on. If things went wrong now, there would be no time for typing. Only running.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even with her calmed and drained of pain, it still wasn’t safe to pet the Piloswine the way Bashak had petted the Swinubs. Agony would have taught her to flinch away from contact rather than lean into it, and even with her Diya easing her pain that kind of learned response would be too dangerous to mess with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So instead of touching her to establish trust, Bashak shared space with her instead. Calmly, never showing a hint of the worry Diya could taste inside him, Bashak cleared some snow from the ground a few meters away from her and sat down, waving to invite Greta to leap into his lap. He glanced over at the Piloswine deliberately once he was settled, to let her know he was aware of her, but then looked away and minded his own business. He was sharing her space, not intruding on her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he did his own thing. The herder produced his spindle and stick of wool -if Diya remembered right, that longer stick was called a distaff-, grounded the distaff with the hooked copper wire, and began spinning again. He let his spindle dangle by a strand of half-spun thread and set it spinning with a twist of his fingers. Deft practiced motions pulled at the wool cloud on his distaff, ensuring there was always more material to spin into thread.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That got the Piloswine’s attention. She turned her head to look at this strange thing the human was doing. But that was all he got, her attention. It was when Bashak started humming along to Helga and Bertha’s song that her demeanor changed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of his humming was a deep resonant thrumming, something that came out of the back of his chest and vibrated deep inside Diya’s. And it must have found its way inside of the Piloswine’s chest too because as he hummed the Piloswine stopped simply looking at him and crept closer, cautiously as if he might stop if she disturbed him. And when she was no more than a meter away, she let herself lie down. She slumped to the snow, her haggard frame heaving with exhausted breaths as she finally let her malnourished body stop holding her up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak hummed, and spun. And she listened, and watched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minutes passed and thread built up on Bashak’s spindle. Diya was starting to wonder if maybe the Piloswine had fallen asleep when she moved again. It was a movement made awkward and shuffling by her exhaustion. But she managed and slowly she pushed herself along the ground until her good tusk was right next to Bashak’s leg.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya held its breath. Bashak’s anxiety was rich on its tongue, focused sharply on that tusk designed to gore and tear at predators. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the tired hungry Piloswine did neither of those things. Instead she raised her head and gently, oh so gently, lay her healthy tusk on top of Bashak’s leg. She huffed out a hot wet breath, and then relaxed, letting the combined music of the herder and his Chanseys wash over her. In Bashak’s lap, Greta reached out and gently licked her tusk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Poor girl,” Bashak murmured to her. “You’ve been fighting so hard haven’t you? It must have been exhausting to keep moving and protecting your family when you could hardly eat. But it’s alright. You can rest now, I promise. We’ll take care of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With slow careful motions Bashak set his spindle down in his lap. He pulled out a pokeball with his freed hand, making sure to make no sudden movements which might startle the injured pokemon. Then he smiled, and gently tapped it against her healthy tusk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya held its breath as the pokeball pulled her in with a flash of red light. If she panicked and broke out, and panicked the rest of the herd too, they were going to have to </span>
  <em>
    <span>run</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pokeball wobbled as the pokemon inside moved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then it stood still.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, the pokeball pulsed red.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Air wooshed out of the Banette’s lungs in a fevered rush. They’d done it! She was going to live. The pokecenter was going to help her heal and she would be alright. And it and Bashak would be alright too! They’d captured an hurting injured Piloswine from the middle of her herd without even a fight! Which was a very good thing, because against four healthy juggernaut-like Piloswine and two dozen smaller Ice pokemon in the snow they would have lost horribly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak let out a relieved sigh of his own. Then he looked up at Diya, his brown eyes meeting Diya’s pink ones. “Diya,” he said seriously, “thank you. I wouldn’t have realized I could help her without you. And it was easier to be brave with you helping me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya nodded seriously, holding eye contact with Bashak as it did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The older trainer let out another sigh and slumped. “Break for lunch?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya nodded as fervently as it could.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Herdier (Normal):<br/></p><p>Swinub (Ice/Ground):<br/></p><p>Piloswine (Ice/Ground):<br/>[evolution of Swinub]<br/></p><p>Chansey (Normal):<br/></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Episode 11: Bashak's Interlude</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Before starting this chapter, I have to admit a terrible mistake. I switched Chapters 1 &amp; 2 on Ao3, either when I first posted this or at some point during edits.</p><p>It was thankfully still readable, as those chapters are from different perspectives, but definitely <i>less</i> readable. Frankly I'm astonished and grateful y'all who are here picked it up anyway. If you want to read the beginning in the proper order (which is much more understandable), it's now fixed.</p><p>Now if you don't mind, I'm going to scream my embarrassment into the empty void for a bit.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Mareep is an ovine pokemon with fluffy cream-colored wool covering its entire body, as well as a curly tuft of wool in the middle of its head. Its head is blue, and it has black eyes. Its four feet are blue and have two digits on each foot, and it appears to be on tiptoe at all times. Its conical ears and tail have a yellow-and-black striped pattern. Mareep has an orange sphere at the end of its tail, which acts like a small light bulb. This sphere glows brighter the more electricity it has. It tends to avoid battles in the wild and has a mild disposition. Mareep which experience combat despite this tend to evolve rapidly into Flaafy and then Ampharos.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Mareep's wool, which grows continuously, stores electricity, rubbing together and building a static charge. Its volume increases when it builds up with electricity. Touching the wool when it is charged will result in a static shock. During the summer the fleece is shed, but it grows back quickly. Air is also stored in its fur, which allows it to stay cool during summer and warm during winter. In the wild Mareep is most often found in grassy fields, though it is also raised by herders in a variety of climates. Its wool is used in high-quality clothing, though it needs to be specially treated before it is safe to wear.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>-----</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak watched curiously as his companion devoured their lunch. The small ghost-costumed trainer ate in the oddest way. First they filled a cupped hand with trail mix. Then they lowered their scarf just enough to expose their mouth and placed their hand so that it covered their mouth. Only then, with their mouth completely obscured, would they eat as if feeding from a small trough. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The herder's own lunch was yogurt sprinkled with blue bluk berries. Bashak spooned himself a mouthful, taking care to squish some of the sour-skinned berries between his back teeth so he could taste their sweet insides too. He never took his eyes off Diya as he ate though, and he never stopped wondering about the younger trainer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At first, when June had told Bashak about the weird way Diya ate, he’d assumed they were a child used to lean times. He’d met a few children like that before, who lived further out on the frontier. They ate hunched over their meals like they were worried someone or something would take it from them if they didn’t protect it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya wasn’t eating like that at all. They were happily chatting with their Ghastly - at least that’s what Bashak assumed was happening as they stared at Svartis and their face flickered through shades of laughter and affection. When Diya put down their tin of trail mix, they set it casually on a flat rock behind them out of their line of sight. And when Bashak had offered them some bluk berries, they’d unreservedly offered some of their own trail mix in exchange.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nor did Bashak think Diya was hiding some deformity behind their scarf and their hand. He’d seen their face earlier when they’d taken down their scarf to smile at him. It could be a deformity inside their mouth of course but … no, he didn’t think so. Between their pink eyes, casual demonstration of discomfiting powers, and cheerfully open attitude, Bashak didn’t think Diya was someone who’d be uncomfortable displaying a deformity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A cultural custom about not showing one’s open mouth to others? No, Diya was a local, and a dyed in the wool local by their mannerisms and the clothes they wore under their cloak. Bashak would be surprised if this was a tradition they’d inherited from a foreign family.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak shared a comfortable silence with the ghost trainer as they ate, and he watched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ready?” Bashak asked Diya.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The young trainer stood with their feet spread in a broad ready stance and streamers of black energy flickering around their hands. Svartis floated next to them, crackling with the same black energy. The two of them nodded in unison. They were ready.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak looked down at Greta, who was standing across from them. He crouched down to scratch the ruff of her neck fondly. Out loud he told her, “You’re gonna do great Greta. Don’t worry, I promise they’re not as scary as they look.” Then under his breath he whispered, “Greta, open with baby-doll eyes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The herder stood up and smiled guilessly at his pokemon’s opponents. Just because this spar was all in fun didn’t mean he had to play fair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We start on my whistle,” he told them, and they nodded again. Bashak slipped his old whistle into his mouth, a thin triangle of bone with the inside carved out and a hole through the middle of it. He tongued it into place and waited a moment, sizing up the competition. Then, right when Diya and Svartis started to fidget, he blew a high piercing shriek on the whistle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two of them started, dark energies crackling around them with a renewed intensity as they readied to meet his Herdier’s charge. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His Herdier who did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> charge. Instead Greta whined plaintively at the loud noise, shuffling her feet back and forth in the snow. Her butt wiggled as she looked nervously between the scary ghostly pair and her trainer. She whined some more, intimidated and unsure of what she should do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya and Svartis hesitated. The pair looked back and forth between Bashak and their opponent as well. Bashak could see their reactions written plain upon them. They were unsure. Diya shuffled their feet, falling out of their broad ready stance and into something more ashamed, uncertain about fighting this poor innocent little dog. Svartis' broad smiling mouth dropped into a frown. She mirrored her trainer’s uncertainty and added some extra uncertainty of her own, unsure what it meant that no fighting was happening when her trainer had told her there would be fighting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak waited until Diya reached for the pokedex in their coat pocket before letting his guileless smile transform into something sharper and victorious. And if Diya had been a little more alert, a little more aware, they might have seen his smile shift and realized something was wrong. But Fairy powers like baby-doll eyes were subtle and effective. Diya didn’t see through Greta’s act and the ghost trainer’s defenses were down until the very last moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak blasted his whistle, one quick sharp note and then a patterned chirp. The first note told Greta the command was for her and that she would be using sparring -not lethal- force. The chirp told her bite.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greta rocketed forward with such speed the snow exploded into flurries behind her. Diya barely had time to blink before the small pokemon missile slammed into their leg and took it out from beneath them. Diya went down in a tangle of limbs. Svartis looked sideways to where Diya’s head had been just a moment before and blinked owlishly, not yet processing what had happened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Greta nipped Diya’s leg lightly, with teeth wrapped in the deeper-than-black Dark energy that accompanied a Herdier’s bite, and the fight really got started.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya </span>
  <em>
    <span>yelped</span>
  </em>
  <span> out loud at the touch of the Dark energy, throwing their hands up a moment later to press against their scarf-covered mouth. Svartis realized what was happening all at once and unleashed her own attack in response. A barely visible line of oily black smoke rippled through the air from the Gastly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Svartis was panicking and disoriented, and Greta was well trained. The ghostly ray hit only empty churned snow as Greta pivoted and leapt away, making good her escape.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya staggered to their feet. They swayed with disorientation and favored their nipped leg heavily. Tints of pink light lit the forest’s shadows as they blinked and stared around them, trying to get their bearings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak didn’t give them the space to do that. Which is not to say he pressed his advantage as hard as he could have. In a real fight, this would be the moment where he’d have Greta take her woozy opponent out of the fight for good so she could focus all of her attention on one remaining opponent . But this was just a spar, to teach and to have fun, so instead he ordered her to go after Svartis.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another whistle blast had her leaping up high to bite the floating spirit, deeper-than-black Dark energy wrapping around her teeth again. Svartis shrieked a high tea-kettle noise and tried to dodge, but was too slow. Greta didn’t get her main spherical body, but she did get the edge of Svartis' purple gaseous form with her teeth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Svartis yanked her gaseous form out from between those dark teeth with a pained shriek. And Diya’s glassy disoriented eyes finally snapped back into focus. Or tried to at least. They were still a little cross-eyed as they raised their right hand and let loose a blast of tattered black and purple streamers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The night shade -at least that’s what Bashak thought the ghostly attack was- missed by meters, sending up plumes of churned snow and earth. Greta was already wheeling away again, dashing for the cover of the trees at Bashak’s whistled direction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak frowned as the plumes of debris collapsed back to earth. That had been entirely too much force for a practice spar. He’d have to talk to Diya about that after the match. If they couldn’t keep their use of force under control while disoriented, they shouldn’t attack at all. Until he could have that talk with them though, he’d just have to keep Greta from using anymore Fairy moves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For that same reason, Bashak judged it was a good idea to let the mystic powerhouse get their head on straight before a serious accident happened. He whistled to Greta to stay put in cover and work herself up instead of continuing to harry them. Greta slid to a stop behind a tree and hunkered down. With a low growl of effort and exertion she began the process of pumping her muscles with Normal type energy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To Diya’s credit, the first thing they did once they’d regained their bearings was to look around frantically for Svartis. They found their Gastly cowering above them in the shadows of the forest canopy, pulled up out of Greta’s reach. Trainer and pokemon locked eyes, and something passed between them without words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak watched intently as they communicated. Diya had just been played for a fool and battered about. The pokemon they were fighting was untouched. And their own pokemon was cowering with fear, hesitant to reenter the battle. So. What were they going to do about it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>June wanted Bashak’s opinion on whether they should invite this ghost trainer to travel with them on their journey. Her own mind was already made up. She adored this child and thought the two of them should take Diya under their wing. And Bashak was inclined to agree. But still, he watched. When a trainer was hurting and losing, and their pokemon was uncooperative, you could learn a lot about them by how they let themself be affected by that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Truth be told, Bashak would have accepted a fair degree of less than ideal behavior from Diya right then. Some general frustration and anger wouldn’t have been out of place, so long as Diya didn’t go so far as to blame Svartis. Few people were at their best right after being knocked on their ass. So Bashak was surprised when Diya didn’t get upset. And not in the sense of successfully controlling themself, Diya didn’t get upset </span>
  <em>
    <span>at all</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead Diya was smiling when they looked up at Svartis, excited and beaming even as they heaved in labored breaths. Then a moment later that look of excitement vanished, replaced by wide-eyed concern and then the immediate desire to comfort. Diya ushered Svartis down from the canopy and into their robes, petting down the front of their robe with soothing one-handed gestures. With their free hand they opened their pokedex and typed, &lt;PAUSE! Can we stop?&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak nodded his agreement immediately, whistling for Greta to stand down and return to his side. And start using baby-doll eyes again, just a little to defuse any tension. Bashak slipped his whistle out of his mouth and knelt down to scratch Greta behind the ears, giving her a good hard scratch. She’d done so well, and she deserved to know it. The herder did his best to keep his attention divided though, one eye on Diya for further typing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Diya did explain themself as quickly as they could type. &lt;I’m sorry about that. I should have realized this would happen. Svartis is the spirit of a prey animal. Bottom of the food chain, no combat abilities. Even though she’s a lot stronger and harder to hurt now, she got really scared when Greta attacked her. Mind if I take some time to calm her down?&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak told himself very firmly that he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> as impulsive as June and he hadn’t just decided the two of them were adopting this tiny caring child. As he lied to himself, Bashak answered Diya, “Of course. But remember, we should fight again in a minute or two.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That gets him a confused head tilt from Diya. &lt;???&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, of course. This was Diya’s first pokemon, they wouldn’t necessarily know this. “It’s okay if the next spar is gentle and low-intensity, but there should be a next spar. Flinching is a bad habit to build when training to fight, and learning to not give in to fear is a powerful lesson.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;Oh! That makes sense!&gt; Diya turned from Bashak and began communicating with Svartis very intently, holding open the collar of their robe with their eyes fixed on Svartis inside. After a minute they looked back up and asked, &lt;Can we practice being on the offensive? Just for the start of the spar, to ease Svartis into it?&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak nodded. “Of course.” Greta ought to get in some dodging practice with their attacks anyway. She could dodge the lead spark of a Mareep’s lightning bolt like a champion and weave through a Piloswine’s ice storm like it was nothing, but that was because she’d done both a thousand times each. Some exposure to unfamiliar attacks would do her good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An almost invisible purple mist flowed out of Diya’s collar, coalescing above their hat into Svartis' semi-corporeal body with its too-wide eyes and sharp-toothed mouth. Diya tilted their head back to look up at her, communing. When they lowered their head again they were grinning, and Svartis too. &lt;Ready.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak slipped his whistle back into his mouth and gave a series of quick relatively quiet chirps. Without hesitation Greta did as bid, using Work Up to strengthen her muscles and tensing her legs in preparation for a dodge. He slipped his whistle out for a moment and asked, “On my mark?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya slipped their pokedex back into their cloak and nodded, settling back into a ready stance. Again, black energies crackled around their hands. Above them a dark purple mist coalesced around Svartis, pulling in to orbit her in dark swirling clouds. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time Greta didn’t pretend to be intimidated. She’d faced down Gabites to protect the family’s herds before, alongside the rest of the family’s protectors. Bashak’s companion had fought dragons before, and he knew she would only give these two young whippersnappers the respect of fear when they earned it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak let loose a starting blast with his whistle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For an instant the forest flashed black as Diya let loose, like an inverted flash bulb had gone off. Tattered streamers of black and purple shadow shot forth from their left hand in a wide spray meant to cage and contain the small Herdier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snow blasted into the air before the night shade even landed as Greta made good her escape. She shot sideways on empowered legs at Bashak’s direction, not even touching the snow again until she landed meters away and pivoted, turning back to face her opponents. She threw herself across the snow in bounding leaps, covering the distance between them rapidly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diya had asked Bashak to let them go on the offensive, but he saw Diya’s right hand still crackling with power and the swirling mist about Svartis. The two of them would have an answer for Greta’s charge, and he wanted to give them an opportunity to show it off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And they did. Diya slashed with their right hand and released a wide fan of streamers in front of Greta, blasting into the snow and blocking her path. Greta jerked to a stop, ready to leap sideways to avoid whatever attack Svartis had waiting for the moment she was stalled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But no attack came forth. The dark clouds only swirled tighter around Svartis, pulling inward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak whistled for Greta to tackle Diya, confident she could attack and retreat before Svartis could unleash whatever counterattack she was preparing. But when Greta pulled her legs under her to leap, she didn’t go flying at them like a missile. Instead one of her legs </span>
  <em>
    <span>buckled,</span>
  </em>
  <span> collapsing beneath her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ghost trainer raised their hand, night shade crackling around it and Bashak didn’t wait to order a retreat. A rope of hazy black and purple streamers flew forth as he did, kept purposely weak enough to not do any real damage if Greta couldn’t dodge. Greta did dodge though, throwing herself to the side and rolling through the snow. She got back to her feet only to waver again, legs threatening to buckle again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Floating high above Svartis grinned, and the dark clouds spiraled in, swirling ever tighter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak whistled for a retreat a second time, as loudly as he could. He was relieved when Greta managed, dashing away from the ghostly pair and taking cover behind a distant tree. He whistled again as soon as she was in cover, a special pattern that asked after her condition.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Three short yips answered him. Greta was -somehow- exhausted. He whistled again, asking for the location of her injury, hoping she could interpret what he was asking. There was a moment of silence before she barked her answer - her legs. Not the pattern of barks for all-over pain, but specifically her legs. Bashak thought furiously. Somehow Svartis must be doing something that made Greta pay many times over for any exertion, making lunges and tackles in her vicinity far more exhausting than they should be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A streak of darkness and a heavy thumping </span>
  <b>
    <em>boom</em>
  </b>
  <span> interrupted Bashak’s thoughts as Diya fired a shadow ball. The tree Greta was using for cover shook, bark blasted away from a blackened crater in the tree’s surface. Bashak blanched. From the thin, almost insubstantial way the shadow ball had appeared in flight it was clear Diya had been holding </span>
  <em>
    <span>way</span>
  </em>
  <span> back with that attack. The message was clear. In a real fight, that tree would be gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak signalled for Greta to move on, leaping to the next cover she could find. But as she moved Svartis launched an attack of her own, that same barely visible line of oily black smoke she’d used in the first match. Greta dodged, but just barely. She had trouble judging the trajectory of the nearly invisible attack and some of it clipped her. She stumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak whistled again for Greta to move on, but she didn’t. For a moment she stared around her like she didn’t know where she was, and when Bashak whistled again she only stared at him like she didn’t understand what the patterned notes meant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A web of shadowy streamers from Diya caught Greta in the side as she stood there stunned, knocking her into the snow. That seemed to knock the confusion from her though and a moment later she was up on her feet again, weaving through the trees so fast Diya and Svartis had trouble tracking her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Off to the side, out of their line of sight now that they were following Greta, Bashak held a hand over his racing heart and smiled. Well now, he thought to himself. It looked like this wasn’t just going to be an exercise for Greta in dodging unfamiliar attacks. He had </span>
  <em>
    <span>no idea</span>
  </em>
  <span> what Svartis' moves were or what they were doing, and could barely keep ahead of the ghostly partners' attacks long enough to strategize.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was going to be a challenge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak whistled for Greta to wrap herself in Fairy energy that would amplify the emotional impacts of her attacks. It was time to play rough. If Greta could get the two of them to flinch and break their momentum, he might still be able to lead her to a win. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another piercing whistle directed Greta forward, moving as fast as she could to get in and out of Svartis' draining effect before it could slow her, and darting side to side to dodge Diya’s barrage of shadowy attacks. Bashak smiled as she wove </span>
  <em>
    <span>through</span>
  </em>
  <span> a night shade attack. She could do this. He believed in her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak sat in front of his yurt and spun thread. Greta was still ‘sparring’ with Diya and Svartis, but really it had devolved into friendly roughhousing and games of tag well over an hour ago. His commands weren’t necessary to direct Greta for this and he was perfectly content to let them play without him. He wasn’t needed right now and that was fine with him. He could just sit and watch and spin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The herder smiled to himself. His mom always called him an old soul when he said things like that. And maybe he was. But maybe he just had a good life. What was a young soul, after all, if not someone who was filled with passion and fire and the need to change the world? And what was an old soul, if not someone content to take life slow and the same, day after day?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Over the last few years some of Bashak’s childhood friends had left the mountains for college or a trade in the cities. And he always congratulated them when they did. He hoped they found everything they were looking for. But him? This was all he had ever needed. He had loyal companions by his side, pokemon to take care of, and honest work to occupy his hands. Why would he need to set the world afire when he already had all he could want?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Off in the distance there was a yip and a flash of darkness as Greta nipped Svartis and she retaliated with her own blast of Dark energy, learned from being on the receiving end of one too many Dark bites.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey!” Bashak shouted so they could hear him. “Greta, no biting. Diya, whatever Svartis did to prompt that, tell her not to!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No more yips or flashes of darkness occurred, so Bashak assumed the problem was solved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He returned to spinning, smiling despite the interruption. Or maybe because of it. After all, he might be an old soul, but it wasn’t a bad thing when young souls came around to shake up the old souls a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sun was slipping over the horizon and Bashak eyed its position, judging whether June would be up by now on her nocturnal Spinarak hunting schedule. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;Junebug, you up?&gt; he texted her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her response came after a few minutes. &lt;Barely and miserably, but yes. What’s up? How are things going with Diya?&gt; </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak answered by taking a picture and sending it to her. The picture showed a sleeping Diya splayed out on a pile of cushions in his yurt, with Svartis sleeping wrapped around their neck like a scarf and Greta flopped over their stomach. One of her front paws was just barely touching Svartis, who’d extended a small pseudopod of gas to wrap around the paw.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;BASHAK&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;!!!&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;YOU CAN’T JUST DROP THAT ON ME WITHOUT WARNING!&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;THEY’RE TOO CUTE!&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;Awwww, little Greta is drooling. She’s all tuckered out.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;Diya looks exhausted too, poor kid.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;OH MY GODS SVARTIS IS HOLDING GRETA’S HAND THAT IS TOO PRECIOUS!&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak smiled and muted his pokedex so the notifications wouldn’t wake the sleeping puppy pile. He watched June’s texts roll silently in, waiting for her to finish rambling about how cute they were. That took a while.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t like she was wrong though. They really were that cute. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually she asked, &lt;So you’re okay bringing Diya along with us then? I mean, they’re sleeping in your tent with Greta. You trust them, Greta likes them, it’s a done deal yeah?&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wasn’t wrong about that either. &lt;Yeah.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;Woo! I knew it! See, I told you! They’re a great fit to travel with us. They’re friendly, and helpful, and they’ve got those cool ghost powers.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And it was a good thing they </span>
  <em>
    <span>were</span>
  </em>
  <span> friendly, Bashak thought, because June would have invited them along to satisfy her fascination with their unusual powers either way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;And speaking of their powers-&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak did not think ‘called it’ to himself, because that would imply it was ever in doubt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;Did they show you anything interesting today? Any new psychic powers, variations on the ones I told you about, what could Svartis do in a spar, you sparred with her right? What’s she like out in the wild, how did she interact with Greta and the Swinub? Oh, did you finally catch the Swinubs today?&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;Diya’s not psychic.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;WHAT?! What do you mean, Bashak you big lug, don’t leave me hanging like this, what do you mean Diya’s NOT PSYCHIC?!&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;Immune to Normal. They’re not a Psychic person using Ghost powers, they’re a Ghost person.&gt;</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>&lt;WHAT?! What do you mean they’re immune to Normal?! Like, totally immune? And what do you mean by Ghost person? What does that even mean?!&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak shrugged to himself. &lt;Dunno. But Normal affects Psychics. They’re not Psychic.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The following wall of text June sent was long and rambling and had two different article links in it, but it could be summed up as, &lt;There are no Ghost type humans, but only Ghost types are totally immune to Normal type moves, but there are no Ghost type humans, what, how, why&gt; sprinkled with, &lt;Do you think Diya thinks they’re really not a psychic, or is it just an easy explanation for something complicated, you should ask them, wait don’t let them sleep, aaaaahhhhh I need to know.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually she wound down enough to ask, &lt;So did you see them use any other ghostly powers?&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;Phantom step.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;???&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, right. &lt;Diya’s name for phantom force.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;Oh! Oh oh oh! This explains how Diya visits the phantom world&gt; Bashak choked on his own spit, the kid </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span>, &lt;of course they used phantom force. Step. Whatever. Of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course</span>
  </em>
  <span> that’s how phantom force works it makes perfect sense. Where else would Ghost types be vanishing to when they use it?&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then June’s stream of texts went quiet. Bashak waited for a few minutes. She was probably reading an article she’d looked up, or composing another wall of text to send him. Bashak nibbled on some Mareep cheese while he waited. Today was exhausting, and he was still hungry even after sharing dinner with Diya.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When fifteen minutes had passed without another text from June, Bashak rolled his eyes at whatever research rabbit hole she’d dug herself into. &lt;Junebug? You there?&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He waited minutes for her reply before it came. &lt;Can you meet me at the pokecenter tonight, in person? I know it’ll be late for you. I promise it’s important.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;Of course.&gt; Minutes passed. &lt;June what’s up? June?&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;I’m sorry, fell down a research hole. Talk to you later.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak did not believe for a moment that she just ‘fell down a research hole’. Something was off about her texts. He stepped out of his yurt into the evening cold, leaving his sleeping companions behind so he could call June without disturbing them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t pick up. Just sent back a one-word text, &lt;Busy.&gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greasy cold coiled in Bashak’s gut. That wasn’t like her at all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Later, when it was finally time to wake Diya up and walk with them back to town, June still hadn’t sent any more texts. There were no overwhelming rambles on what she was looking up. No followup queries about all the deluge of questions she had earlier which Bashak didn’t have time to answer. No belated questions about Bashak’s Swinub expedition, and no equal measure of sincerely meant praise for his success and sincerely meant apologies she didn’t give him space to talk about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Awful intuition raked its hands through Bashak’s insides and he knew her silence meant nothing good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak finished the process of dropping his Swinubs and his new Piloswine off with Claire at the pokecenter. Part of him was excited. Claire confirmed that yes, his capture of the injured Piloswine was legitimate and he’d be able to keep her. And Claire’s machines would be able to cure her, though she’d almost certainly lose the tusk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the other part of him was wondering what June wanted to talk about. An uneasy apprehension was still crawling up his spine which he couldn’t shake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak knocked on his friend’s door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come in,” she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first thing Bashak noticed when he entered was that June had been crying. Her eyes were bloodshot and the skin of her upper lip was a raw red where it had been irritated by mucus. Her curly black hair was out of its beanie and hung down to her shoulders in messy tangles. And she was sitting cross-legged on her hotel bed, hunched over her pokedex and surrounded by scattered printouts which she stared at with a burning intensity. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cold anxiety in his gut was threatening to come crawling up his throat. The only reason Bashak didn’t run over to comfort her was because she had that look in her eyes she got when she was onto something, the one that brooked no distractions. Eventually he uttered a quiet “June?”, hesitancy and worry lacing his voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked up and it hurt Bashak to see the pain in her eyes. Thankfully some of that too-sharp focus in them leaked out when she saw him in the doorway. “Hey,” she answered, exhaustion creeping into her voice. “I … I could really use a hug. But um, can we talk about this first?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak's heart ached. He wanted to tell her that whatever it was could wait, that what she needed was a hug, and chicken noodle soup, and a good night’s sleep. But if she said she needed to talk first…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bigger trainer settled himself next to her on the bed, pressing his leg and shoulder up against hers to make sure his presence was as tangible as possible. Greta leapt up onto the bed with him, draping herself across both their laps. “June, what’s wrong?” Bashak asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-” June rubbed her bloodshot eyes. “One second, Igor can you get me that paper, the one over there?” She pointed to a corner of the bed out of her reach. Her companion obligingly crawled down from his ever-present perch on her shoulder to get it, bringing it back a printed out table of information clutched between two of his forelegs. She took a moment to scan over the table, as if reminding herself of its contents, and then sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally she looked up at Bashak and asked, “So. You said Diya used phantom force?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They called it phantom step, but yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>sure?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Bashak I need you to be one hundred percent sure about this? You saw Diya use phantom force- step- whatever, with your own two eyes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak hesitated. After thinking for a moment he said, “I startled Diya. There was a whirl of shadows, I felt cold on the inside, and they vanished. A few seconds later, same thing and they came back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They called it phantom step, right? Any chance it’s actually a different move than phantom force?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head. “No. They complained about how phantom force is a bad name and phantom step is better. A lot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>June takes a deep breath. “And you said they used it when startled?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So it looked easy for them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak shrugged, his arm shifting against June’s as he did. “Maybe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eugh, wrong phrasing. Did it look … how to put it … automatic?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That Bashak could answer. “Definitely.” Diya had done it on reflex when startled, he’d call that automatic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With an exhausted sigh, June let herself collapse against his side, rubbing her eyes some more. Under her breath she muttered a disturbingly sincere </span>
  <em>
    <span>“fuck”.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“June,” Bashak said as calmly as he could, “you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The research trainer took in a deep breath and began talking. And once she started she didn’t stop, as if she was trying to get it all out in one breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can count on one hand the number of pokemon species confirmed to be able to use phantom force. That number extends to maybe a dozen if you count unconfirmed anecdotal reports. And those unconfirmed reports all have a unifying thread, which is that the ghost pokemon seen using it -and it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> ghost pokemon- were all extremely powerful wild pokemon. Like, they’d probably be strong enough to compete in A-tier or even S-tier league battles. Too strong to catch and examine, especially when they can hop dimensions.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There are only four species, </span>
  <em>
    <span>four</span>
  </em>
  <span>, in the entire world which can use phantom force easily enough for there to be confirmed records of it. And three of them are evolved pokemon and one of them is </span>
  <em>
    <span>twice</span>
  </em>
  <span> evolved so saying it’s ‘easy’ for that one is extremely debatable. Even direct pokemon modification in virtual space using technical machines has only been able to grant the ability to a handful of Ghost species. It’s just … Bashak I looked at the research. This isn’t an ability a human can use. It is definitely not an ability a human can use instinctively as part of an automatic reflex.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak frowned. “Alright. So they’re not a psychic using Ghost moves, they’re a Ghost-human-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bashak,” June interrupted firmly, “there are no ‘Ghost-humans’. This isn’t like how some humans have an affinity for Psychic energy or Fighting energy, or Dark humans who are naturally immune to Psychic powers. Ghost-type humans </span>
  <em>
    <span>do not exist</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Gods, the only human psychics capable of using any ghost moves at all are on Gym Leader </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sabrina’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> level, and that’s a minor hex or a curse at best. Certainly nothing like phantom force.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That couldn’t be right. Bashak had </span>
  <em>
    <span>seen</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diya use phantom step. He’d seen them throwing around night shades and shadow balls like they were candy when fighting Greta. They’d told him, to his face, that they were immune to Normal moves like Ghosts were and then seen that in action. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Could it be … illusions?” Bashak ventured. He couldn’t imagine </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> a psychic would be faking specific Ghost powers, or if that was even possible. And it wouldn’t explain Diya’s immunity to his Chansey’s singing. Nor did it make any sense for someone with Diya’s personality to be doing that. But if June said humans couldn’t do that, he believed her. And illusions was the only possibility that made even half a lick of sense.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But June shook her head. “No just … take a look at this.” She gestured for Igor to get her another sheaf of paper. This one was an academic paper, with a grainy picture of a Herdier stapled to it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak gave June a puzzled look, but took the paper. Immediately the Herdier’s health caught his eye. The poor pokemon was gaunt and haggard, with ribs showing underneath patchy fur and a drooping tail. Their eyes were so badly bloodshot they couldn’t have slept in days.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without realizing it, Bashak’s hand dropped down to pet Greta.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wondering what this was about, Bashak read the paper’s title: ‘Necrobiosymbiosis in the Shuppet line’. Confused, he looked over at his friend. “June what is this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just … read it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he did. Most of the technical terminology in the paper was beyond him. But as Bashak read through the paper a picture began to form. A very disturbing picture.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Necrobiosymbiosis is an extremely rare Ghost-type possession process as yet only observed in the Shuppet line, whereby an evolving Shuppet reanimates and possesses a recently deceased or well preserved pokemon corpse in which all neural activity has ceased. As with necroanimism [1] the evolving Shuppet, now a Banette, fills the spiritual hollow left behind by a deceased pokemon. Unlike with necroanimism however, the pokemon’s body fully reanimates and displays all the vital processes and needs of life (see Sec. II). Furthermore evidence suggests that the Banette might fully integrate with the body on a spiritual level, taking the place of the passed on soul (see Sec. IV).  </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak looked back at the picture of the gaunt Herdier attached to the paper. Now that he was looking more closely, its eyes weren’t bloodshot as he’d first assumed. The sclera were a uniform pink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could imagine how June had felt while reading this. The dawning sense of realization. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Despite its apparent similarities necrobiosymbiosis should not be confused with the more common necroanimism observed in the Yamask [2], Dusclops [2], Phantump [3,4,5], Pumpkaboo [5,6], Delmise [5], or Nincada [1] lines, which is the process by which Ghost pokemon possess or puppeteer corpses or corpse detritus to serve as shelter or a means to interact with the physical world. Necrobiosymbiotic Banettes appear to be more thoroughly integrated with their living hosts, and have not been observed to abandon their physical shell even when under duress and provided with an alternative host. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Nor should necrobiosymbioisis be confused with necroneuroparasitism [7,8,9,10,11,12,13], in which a Ghost pokemon overrides the cognitive functions of a living creature to possess their body. In all three cases we observed, neuroimaging showed no signs of dual or overridden mental processes, and in one case pokecenter employees confirmed a full neurological shutdown before the possession occurred. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak skipped ahead.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>According to reports from neighbors, Subjects H1 and H2 had been suspected of neglecting their Herdier for some time. However no action was taken before they moved out, leaving their Herdier behind in the locked apartment. After three days an unusual concentration of Shuppets and reports of noise led the tenancy council to open the apartment, finding the abandoned Herdier severely dehydrated and almost dead. The Herdier was taken to the local pokemon center -followed by the Shuppets as it did- where it expired despite medical care. Neuroimaging at the time confirmed a complete cessation of brain activity and that it was not a candidate for stasis and later revival.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It must be stressed that at this point the Herdier was dead. What happened next was not a case of necroneuroparasitism, as there was no brain activity to be hijacked.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No one was in the room with the Herdier at the time of resurrection, but witnesses report shadows in neighboring rooms lengthening and flickering with spectral purple fire, culminating in a loud cry of “Banette!”. At this time the heart monitor attached to the Herdier reported renewed activity, albeit at an unusually steady beat lower than what would be expected in a pokemon having undergone such severe trauma. Witnesses who rushed in reported the Herdier’s eyes had glowing pink sclera and that it was leaking smoke from its open mouth. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Note: The report about leaking smoke cannot be confirmed, as at no point after this was the Herdier observed with an open mouth. However this would seem to correspond with what happens to standard necroanimistic Banettes with punctures or cracks in their animated form.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It is our presumption that one of the Shuppets which followed the Herdier to the pokemon center had evolved into a Banette, using the physically and emotionally abandoned Herdier’s corpse as its evolutionary catalyst. From this point on, the Herdier’s body will be referred to as a Banette.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Shortly thereafter the Banette fled the pokemon center, using phantom force [22] -a signature move of Banettes [23]- to move through the walls. Its exact movements over the next two days are unknown, but over the next fifty hours it successfully tracked down the former owners of the body it was inhabiting. While the motive for Banette ‘vengeance hauntings’ and the means by which they track their bodies’ former owners is a matter of intense debate [24,25,26,27,28], we should note that in this case the Banette was observed by a witness to be sniffing at the ground as it approached their domicile, possibly suggesting use of the Herdier’s sense of smell to facilitate the tracking.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak didn’t need to keep reading to put the pieces together, but he finished the paper anyway. It gave him time to put his thoughts together and rub the tears out of his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gods, he could see why June had been crying. Bashak buried his hand deeper in Greta’s fur, scratching her as strongly as she would tolerate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So?” June asked when he’d finished collecting himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Diya is a Banette,” he admitted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>June choked out a laugh. “Yeah I’ll say. It’s pretty damn obvious in retrospect. Glowing pink eyes, won’t open their mouth, eats negative emotions, uses Ghost type powers, and phantom force especially. And I don’t even know what to say about the way they apparently brought Svartis back from the dead, but it sure makes a lot more sense if they’re a Banette than a human with Psychic powers.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shook her head ruefully. “You know when I first saw them in the forest, coming out of the dark with those glowing pink eyes, the first thing I thought was ‘But I kissed my stuffed animals goodbye’? I had this crazy thought that they were a Banette of one of my stuffed animals I’d left at home, coming to haunt me for abandoning them. Well in a way I was right! I was right and I should have known the moment I saw those pink glowing eyes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak wrapped an arm around his friend’s shoulders, holding her close. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just … Bashak, what do we </span>
  <em>
    <span>do?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The taller trainer leaned back a bit and looked down at his friend quizzically. “What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What you mean, ‘what do I mean’? Bashak, they’re a </span>
  <em>
    <span>Banette</span>
  </em>
  <span>. They’re a living incarnation of ghostly vengeance. Or unliving, or undead, or whatever it is you’d classify a necrobiosymbiote as! We can’t just shrug that off! This isn’t something you can zen your way out of!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The corners of Bashak’s mouth twitched and he felt a twinge of something light in his heart working through the tragedy of the story he’d just read. “Sure it is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bashak. they’re. not. human. They’re a </span>
  <em>
    <span>Banette</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You know what Banettes can do to people, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>just </span>
  </em>
  <span>read that paper! I’ve got more stories here of what they can do when haunting people if you want to read them, one of them even has a body count!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was just like June to focus too much on what she was reading and not enough one what she was seeing, Bashak thought. He fished around in his jacket pockets for his pokedex while she was talking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And don’t even get me started on- what is this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak was holding his pokedex out in front of them with his free hand, flicking through its pictures until he settled on the one he was looking for. A picture of Diya sleeping sprawled out in the careless haphazard manner of exhausted children, with Greta on their chest and Svartis wrapped around their neck. “This,” Bashak said clearly, “is a kid Greta was playing with earlier today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>June swallowed heavily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re probably a Banette, yes. They’re also a playful kid. Energetic enough to run Greta into the ground. Kind, too. They helped an injured Piloswine today. No hesitation, even when it was dangerous. They care for their pokemon-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That drew a half-manic snort from June, “Even if they are one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-even if they are one, yes. June, they’re a kid. I don’t know how this thing…”</span>
  <span></span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Necrobiosymbiosis?” The eight syllable word rolled off June’s tongue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...that, thank you. I don’t know how that works. But with Diya? The end result is a happy, loving </span>
  <em>
    <span>kid</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>June took in a deep shuddering breath and leaned into Bashak’s chest. “I know,” she said quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak looked down at her and waited for the ‘but’. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But … Bashak, someone </span>
  <em>
    <span>died</span>
  </em>
  <span> for Diya to live. Somewhere out there, probably recently if Diya was telling even half the truth about their story, some teenager died totally alone. They were </span>
  <em>
    <span>abandoned</span>
  </em>
  <span> and they </span>
  <em>
    <span>died</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And what’s walking around in their body isn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>them</span>
  </em>
  <span>, it’s some ghostly parasite! And they’re a parasitic ghost that’s interesting, and nice, and fun to talk to but-” June trailed off helplessly and Bashak teared up again, seeing his friend so twisted up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he shook his head and said, “They didn’t die alone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>June looked up at him. “Bashak that’s literally the requirement for a Banette evolution. Something, or some</span>
  <em>
    <span>one</span>
  </em>
  <span> apparently, has to be totally abandoned. A kid had to die in the most awful misery for Diya to be what they are.” She shook her head miserably. “That’s … I don’t know if I can handle that about them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You’ve never spent much time around Shuppets, have you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... they’re bad omens which hang around places filled with misery and despair, so no, I haven’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak sighed. “You know old lady Diane back home? Her herds are on the south-western slope?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s got depression. The serious lock-the-knives-away kind. So she keeps some tamed Shuppets around, and they help her whenever it’s bad. They take the awfulness of it away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. That’s…” Bashak could see the gears churning in June’s head, thinking through all the ways Shuppets’ grief eating could be useful to people now that it had been pointed out to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm. And whenever I’ve visited Diane I’ve noticed: Shuppets don’t like leaving people alone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well I mean they eat our negative emotions, I’d be kind of surprised if they walked away from their primary food source. In fact it would shock me if they gave you your distance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The herder shook his head. “Even when they’re full, or you’re as happy as can be, they’ll follow you around. I told one to shoo once while I tended to nature’s call and when I was done it was the most anxious little spirit you ever saw. Fretted over me for an hour.” Bashak smiled, and swallowed a lump in his throat. His chest was heavy with a blend of warmth and sadness he couldn’t put a name to. “June, every one of those hosts in that paper you found? They died with a Shuppet near them. And Shuppets want nothing more in the world than to look out after people, and make sure they’re not suffering.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak hiccuped, wiping his eyes even as he smiled wider. “Diya didn’t kill this kid, whoever they were. And the kid wasn’t alone when they died either. Because Diya would have been the one who held their hand as they passed, telling them everything would be alright.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>June swallowed heavily. “Oh,” she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then she burst into tears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak didn’t try to stop her. He only hugged her close, and let his own tears come. Because she wasn’t wrong. A child had died. They’d seen the body. And that was a tragedy worth crying over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sink in June’s bathroom gushed, carrying with it the mechanical hiss of water being forced through an opening under pressure. Bashak splashed his hands in the stream and washed his face, wincing at the uncomfortable sound and the acidic chemical taste of the treated water. He was usually better about ignoring his discomfort with manufactured spaces, but the night’s revelations had scraped him as raw as an exposed nerve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he was done scrubbing the tears marks off his face, Bashak looked up into the mirror. His dripping face was marred by five o’clock shadow and reddened puffy eyes. It was still obvious he’d been crying. He hoped he’d look better tomorrow, that there wouldn’t be any signs for Diya to notice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Speaking of which.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the bedroom June was getting ready for her nocturnal Spinarak hunt, strapping on equipment which would go under her down jacket and reviewing the maps she’d marked on previous nights. Bashak called out to her from the bathroom, “So June,” he waited until she’d made a noise of acknowledgement, “are we telling Diya?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, that we know they’re a Banette?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bahsak caught a glimpse of her shaking her head in the mirror. “I’m still a bit worried what they’ll do if we know. As best I can guess from the story they gave me on the road, and that state I found them in, they’re a new Banette. Very new. And trying to hide it, however poorly. I can see them being skittish if we confront them with this. We’re new to them, all of this is new to them, it’d be easy for them to just cut and run and start over somewhere else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” she continued, “let’s give them some time to settle in with us. Ask them if they’d like to travel with us, spend more time with them hunting for pokemon and at the Canopy Gym. If they’re as new as I think it won’t be long before the majority of their life as a Banette has been with us. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Then</span>
  </em>
  <span> we can tell them we know, when they’ll be less likely to skittish and less likely to cut and run.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm. Makes sense,” Bashak replied. “What if other people figure it out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>June shrugged. “And do what about it? Capture them? I’d have to check the local laws on sapient or sapient-adjacent pokemon, but I’m pretty sure they’re the same as everywhere else. You know, ‘don’t mess with them for the love of all that’s good in the world, just leave them be, oh gods, oh gods, just leave them be we want to live’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, Bashak leaned out of the bathroom to squint at June. “I thought those laws were about self-determination and respect.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah it’s cus most sapient pokemon are powerful beyond all reason and capable of wiping towns off the map, and too mentally alien to meaningfully negotiate with, so not messing with them is the only safe option. Do you not remember that incident with those cloning engineers and the Mew? Most of the ‘leave sapient pokemon alone’ laws were passed after that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fair. Diya’s not that strong though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>June turned to look at her friend with a bemused look on her face. “Bashak. They can walk through walls, hide in another dimension, start fires, and hurl shadow balls strong enough to turn trees into splinters. I’ll grant you they don’t fit the ‘too mentally alien to negotiate with’ bit, obviously, but of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course</span>
  </em>
  <span> they could destroy a town if they wanted to. They’d just do it from the shadows rather than like a rampaging Gyarados.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak blinked rapidly, trying to process that even as June kept talking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s actually another reason to think well of the kid, honestly I should have thought of it earlier. They’re really strong for a Banette. There’s still a crater in the forest from when they were fighting my Wurmple and threw off a half-baked shadow ball. If they had an aggressive bone in their body, there would be another crater wherever their body’s parents used to be and it would still be smoking. Assuming it was their parents who abandoned them. Regardless of who did it, we would have heard about it on the news.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And speaking of that, Bashak had another question to ask. “If we don’t tell Diya we know, do we tell emergency services?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm?” June let out a distracted noise as she struggled with a particularly awkward equipment buckle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak came out of the bathroom to help her tug it into place, then sat on the bed and asked her again. “A kid was mistreated and died. Do we tell someone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah.” June’s face soured into a grimace and she winced. “That’s … tricky.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The herder raised an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is! Look, for all we know Diya already </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> the classic Banette vengeance haunting. And the legality of that could be … it could be questionable. We don’t want to involve the legal system only for it to hurt Diya. Especially if whoever it was already got what was coming to them, and there’s no point involving the legal system. Besides, Diya is perfectly capable of leaving their own anonymous tip about the mistreatment of their body’s former owner, or for that matter just explaining the whole deal in person to whatever authority figure they choose. If they haven’t…” she shrugged, “well we should at least ask them why before we do it for them. And that means waiting until we tell them we know they’re a Banette.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak chewed over that for a moment. That was fair enough. “And if Diya wants help telling the authorities-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, we help them of course,” June interrupted, “no question about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak smiled. “Good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Also, I’ll keep up with the news and keep an eye out for missing persons reports. I checked earlier before you came over and there wasn’t anything yet, but that doesn’t mean there won’t be. If a report does go out and Diya is recognizable in it then we’ll have to talk to them sooner rather than later. And if it doesn’t … hmm. How about we wait until I’m done with my nocturnal Spinarak hunts and can spend some daylight hours hanging out with you two. Then we ask them to travel with us and if they say yes, tell them we know they’re a Banette then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bashak nodded. “And in the meantime?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The question drew a fond smile from June. “All you need to do, Bashak, is care for the kid. Do what you do best, be patient and be kind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That brought a smile to Bashak’s face. Because despite the rollercoaster of a day it had been, despite the tears and all the uncertainty the future still held, that was something he could do. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Writing the research paper bit was surprisingly difficult, because I had to both make it contain the information the reader needs and try not to mortally offend my academic paper writing sensibilities in the process. I definitely failed at the latter, I can only hope I didn’t fail at the former.</p><p>Mareep (Electric):<br/>[These and Swinubs are the primary pokemon Bashak's family herds. They're a hardy adaptable social pokemon with a mild disposition, but they can still hit hard (especially as a collective herd) against predators, their wool is very valuable, and it's easy to evolve them into stronger forms for individualized training as herd defenders. They're an excellent choice for animal husbandry. The only downside is that their dairy is definitely an ... acquired taste for humans, and not popular beyond those who herd them. (If Bashak offers you cheese and it's not Gogoat cheese, politely decline.)]<br/></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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